


Rough Trade

by UnknownSatellite84



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Big Bang Challenge, Blindfolds, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Bottoming from the Top, Bratty Rhys, Bruises, Canon-Typical Violence, Chatting & Messaging, Cock Worship, Collars, Confident Rhys, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Gratuitous Smut, Jack Has Feelings, Jack being Jack, Leashes, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Porn With Plot, Possessive Jack, Power Bottom Rhys, Praise Kink, Rhys has a Cyborg Dick, Riding, Riding Crops, Service Top Jack, Sex Work, Soulmates, Spanking, Strangulation, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, choke kink, consent kink, sassy rhys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownSatellite84/pseuds/UnknownSatellite84
Summary: After a chance encounter, both Rhys and Handsome Jack cannot recall why their soulmarks are glowing. After another chance encounter, Jack decides to hire the irresistible sexworker he stumbled upon, Rhys. With Rhys in it for the big money and Jack in it for the sex, there’s no way this could go wrong or anyone could catch feelings… Right?Created for the 2019 Rhack Big Bang!





	1. Handprints

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the rhack Big Bang :D. Hope y'all enjoy! <3\. Mine is a soulmate and sexworker Rhys combo. The soulmate being that the characters will have handprint soulmarks wherever their soulmate first touches them. This fic will also contain some powerbottom Rhys cause I love indulging myself.  
> Anywho, I had a lot of fun writing, and I will be uploading the chapters over the next few weeks :D (currently hoping to have 2-3 chapters a week). Shout out to my amazing artists, championofdogs and Handsome-Jack (who's Instagram is jacks_baptism_of_blood) for being awesome and making beautiful art for this! First art is in this chapter and is by Handsome-Jack. Second art is by championofdogs and will be next chapter (which I may go ahead and post later today)  
> Also to warn there's some implied/past Jacknisha in this fic

Handsome Jack returned to his penthouse, working at his clumped hair with quick swipes of his fingers. The locks tangled, agitating his attempts to tame it. Sweat lingered on his brow and face, gathered tacky and uncomfortable beneath the stretch of his mask. He paced to the kitchen, poured out a scotch and took a single sip. Moving to his large master bedroom, he kicked off his shoes, ripped the layers off his body- there seemed fewer than usual, he thought with a chuckle - tossed them in the corner. Less to deal with. He finished his drink and wound up in the bathroom in preparation for a nighttime shower to wind down.

He’d had an...interesting night. Or so he thought. Everything was confusing at the moment. It could’ve been the alcohol buzzing in his system, but...

Hadn’t he gotten laid?

Jack unclipped his mask, barely letting himself think of the grotesque sight beneath, the one he saw almost every night, save for those nights when he just couldn’t face it. The mask pulled - no, _peeled_ \- away, exposing his flushed face to the air. It was something of a relief. He sat it by the sink and ran the back of his hand over his features, knuckles coming away damp with his sweat. Something caught his attention. He leaned in to observe himself better.

His body was littered with varying amounts of bite marks, scratches, bruises. Yep. He’d definitely got laid.

However, that wasn’t what had drawn his eyes.

The stupid handprint - _soulmark_ \- _thing_ on his face... _glowed_. Or what was left of it. Most of the mark had been obliterated by the same force that’d delivered the scar, but he could see that the remaining fingerprints were radiating a soft holographic blue. Jack narrowed his eyes, glaring at it.

He poked it a few times with his finger. It seemed to tingle in response. Great, now his face looked even _more_ screwed up. Like some novice face sculptor had tried their damnedest to do something cool but had epically failed. Or something. If he were being honest, Handsome Jack had never really believed in soulmarks. He might’ve a long time ago - not that he even remembered that well - long before that belief had been destroyed by falling in love for the first time and no signs of life in the mark. Or the second time. Or third time.

He knew the soulmark was pure bullshit. Or broken. No, both. Broken bullshit.

For it to come alive now… He was already in his mid-forties for god’s sake! Who the frick could’ve even _touched_ his face like this and not gone out the airlock? No one would’ve _dared_ lay a hand on him.

It was odd in retrospect that his first idea was to call Blake.

“Yes, sir?” Came the man’s usual bored-but-polite tone.

“Did I- erp-” Jack burped, “ugh- airlock... _anyone_ today?”

“Sir?”

“Did I sen’ anyone...outta airlock, it’s na- that hard a question, half-wit.”

“No, sir, there’s no records of such.”

“Or otherwise... _kill_ someone?”

“Surprisingly, the answer is still no, sir. It was in fact, a _slow_ day. However, I cannot account for your off hours. Also, it is _four_ in the morning. what is this about-?”

“A’ight.” Jack hung up, concentrating harder.

He called Nisha. “You wereeen’t at _Heelios_ today...by any chance...were ya?” He launched without preamble.

“Heh, you drunk? Sound it.”

“Seriously, were ya?”

“Nah, but I can pop up there real quick if you’re lonely.”

“N’ don’ worry ‘bout it. I...ueup- think my stamina was used up by...someone else. Not even sure _who_.” He chuckled, but it might’ve been more strained than usual.

Nisha didn’t notice. “Haha, sounds like _my_ kinda night. A shame, though. Pandora can get quite lonely. Well. Have fun with the hangover, old man!” She said with glee and hung up.

“ _You’re_ old,” Jack said into the silent Echo line before refocusing.

It wouldn’t have made sense for it to be her. The soulmarks were supposed to come alive at _first_ touch. Nisha had already touched his face multiple times. And yes, they had fun sometimes, and she was one of the few people he could trust somewhat - at least enough to know she was the last person to put a knife in his back, a trait that was _very_ hard to come by on Helios - but Jack couldn’t honestly say he was _in love_ with her. And he knew she definitely didn’t love him. Nisha didn’t love. It just wasn’t in her nature. Sex, yes. Love, no.

That settled it. The soulmark was broken. Just as Jack had always assumed. Big surprise there. He rolled his eyes and made for that shower he’d nearly forgotten about.

* * *

Rhys awakened that morning, but regretted it quickly. It felt like a knife had been thrusted into his skull. He squeezed his eyes together tighter and groaned. “ _Ugggh_...my head.....”

“Here,” said a voice. His roommate, Yvette, he realized. She grabbed Rhys’s arm, tugging. “ _Up_.” Rhys followed the tug, sitting up, head swimming. He groaned again, forcing his eyes open. His eyes saw Yvette’s hands first. In them were a glass of water and a pill. “Rhys? What happened to you last night? You look like skag vomit!” He squinted at her sharp, somewhat-concerned features. She would deny that concern if he poked at it. It was tempting, but he had too much of a headache right now.

“I…dunnno,” Rhys replied, burying his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. “God, I feel like _shit_. What _happened…_?”

She responded matter-of-factly. “You came home half-naked and drunk as hell with bruises and bitemarks all over your body.” Her voice became a bit more playful. “Have a fun night at _Aries_?”

Rhys glanced down his torso, spotting a few of the said marks. It occurred to him he was quite sore _down there_ . Someone had done a number on his ass. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were bruises on it, too. “So it would seem…” _Aries_ was the fancy club where he danced - and sometimes sang - on the weekends for extra money. Still baffled, Rhys checked his Echo Eye. There were no messages or even new contacts to indicate _who_ he might have hooked up with. Hell, there wasn’t any extra funds in his account to indicate he’d taken an impromptu job, something he didn’t see himself doing. It was too unsafe. He always had clients go through the proper channels. It was just better for everyone that way. “I...uh, don’t...remember last night.” He finally accepted the pill and water, downing both. “I don’t understand,” he went on, looking her in the eye. “I’m...not supposed to mess around on the job, and I’ve never broken that rule before. Nothing like this has ever happened!" He scrubbed his face, which felt clammy to the touch. Surely he hadn’t been drugged. He was certain he wouldn’t have made it home if that were the case. “Did I say anything? When I got home? About what might’ve happened?”

“Nothing coherent. You _were_ singing about being the luckiest man alive, though. I barely managed to get you to bed. You kept trying to collapse on the floor.”

“Oh... Well, thanks.”

“What would you do without me?” She said, deadpan. “Just don’t make a habit of this. It’s bad enough all these late nights...you barging in, waking me up. I have to be up early most days, you know. I didn’t become your roommate for this.”

“Nope. You became my roommate because it was cheap.” He laughed. “And I’ll try to be quieter in the future.” He gripped her shoulder in a friendly way. “But seriously, I appreciate it, dude. Now, if you don’t mind, I need a shower and a good teeth brushing.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Yvette left.

Rhys managed to find the strength to crawl out of bed and drag himself towards the shower. The pill was helping, but it hadn’t reached full strength yet. Once locked in the bathroom, he stripped off the last bit of clothing he still had on: a baggy white button up shirt he didn’t recognize (but it smelled _good,_ like cologne and gunpowder), a single stocking, and his Hyperion boxers. He’d stolen someone’s shirt. Probably a man’s. 

Damn it, this was getting unfair.

He caught his reflection in the mirror. His mouth fell open. Yes, he looked like crap, but _good grief_ did he have a _lot_ of marks on him. Fucking damn it. _Who_ did this? Annoyance flooded him. He didn’t usually let any partner mark him up to this extent. There was a dried stain on his stomach that was almost definitely cum. He must’ve been _out of control_ last night. His breathing tightened and his dick twitched, as if his subconscious remembered something he didn’t. He swore under his breath. _Who_ would he have lost control like this for? He took a breath and turned to observe the extent of the damage done to his ass. He froze.

“Oh...oh no…”

The soulmark.

It was _glowing_. The shape of a rather large handprint across his ass, was glowing a deep gold. “Oh… No...no, no, no…”

Now everything made sense. All in a twisted, unfair way. It was said that the first meeting of the soulmate submersed the mind in a drunk-like state of euphoria. It was said that it could drive a person to act in ways unprecedented. Wild stories prevailed. It was better than drugs, they said. It was wild and unimaginable and _amazing-_

Yeah.

But Rhys hadn’t known it would be like _this_ . That it would hit him so hard he wouldn’t remember it afterward. He’d never heard of that before! This couldn’t be happening! He’d met his soulmate and he had _no clue_ who they were!? No names or numbers! How could this person do this to him?! They’d surely known!

Why hadn’t they at least woken up together, cuddling, gently carding fingers in each other’s hair as they discussed a more sober round two. _Whyyy?!_ He dropped his fist on the sink, the objects there rattling. Shit. He kept feeling how _unfair_ this was. He tried...tried to remember, tried his damnedest. Anything. Even the memory of a kiss.

Nothing came to him.

Rhys picked up the shirt he’d ditched and inhaled its scent, trying not to feel like he’d lost his only chance to have his soulmate. His soulmate’s aroma hung heavy in his nostrils, and he wanted to curl up and just breathe it in for awhile.

But first, his hygiene, he reminded himself, laying the shirt down nearby with more care this time.

* * *

The first thing Rhys tried was to get access to the Aries cameras from the night before. After a fair bit of hassle and having to bribe a manager with a few hundred dollars (had to be worth it, right?) he succeeded at obtaining the footage. He watched it...but it’d been crowded that night, and he lost himself after exiting the stage. No matter how he relooped the footage or looked at multiple angles, he never could find himself again. Or his secret soulmate. There were too many bodies. He had no idea what had happened. Maybe he hadn’t even bumped into them until he was on his way home? Despondently, he gave up on that idea and lamented his waste of money.

The following days and weeks, he tried to hope his soulmate would reappear. He kept the shirt close. When he wasn’t at home, he locked it in his safe. When he was home, he breathed its scent often, slept with it at night. He often had dreams that were erotic in nature, but he could never recall the face of the person within them. Just a soft glowing blue handprint was all he remembered, the rest of their features shrouded in darkness.

Yeah. Weird.

It took a few weeks for Rhys to finally accept that it wasn’t going to happen. His soulmate wasn’t going to reappear. They were long gone. Nobody messaged him. Nobody contacted him. Nobody materialized at random with flowers and a dopey grin to sheepishly explain themselves. For all he knew, his soulmate wasn’t even on the station any longer.

Nothing could be done about it now…

Still.

It wasn’t fair.


	2. Larger Than Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys has an unexpected encounter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some brief Rhys/OC this chapter but it is very brief lol. Any who chapter 2! Again the awesome art this chapter is by championofdogs :D

Rhys leaned against the rail, humming to himself, fingers tapping the solid metal. The busy _Hub of Heroism_ was full of people going to and from work, or just taking a break. His eyes scanned the throng for his meetup, Echo Eye doing quick assessments of the people there. A few eyes drifted back to him, sometimes gazing too long until Rhys glared them away. Fortunately, no one said a word. Rhys wasn’t in the mood, which was why he _preferred_ being here. The Hub, offering a variety of public relaxation and refreshments, had to be the busiest thoroughfare on Helios. And people were less likely to start problems unless they wanted to risk drawing the ire of the nearby loader bot patrols.

Rhys was a provocative sight. He looked fantastic. Not that he’d gone overboard. He wasn’t one for trying too hard, didn’t need to. He had chosen some nice and _suggestive_ clothing, one where the shirt vest had a steep V to show off his neck, chest, and body art (tattoos, yes, he took pride in those), and tight enough pants to entertain the eyes. He’d cut and gelled his hair, even broke out his favorite face cream, the one that left his skin soft and inviting. It was a special occasion.

Rupert Holloway had hired Rhys.

Why was that special? Holloway happened to be Vice President of Marketing. It was a well-sought position of high turnover from what Rhys had gathered. Then again, anything above middle management and below exec level tended to be that way, fought tooth and nail over. It was the gauntlet that either made or killed the potential future company heads.

It was riskier for Rhys to take this job, being around people who happily assassinated each other behind closed doors.

But the _amount_ of money he’d be collecting would be _lovely_ , so very worth it, and he would certainly earn more prestige at the Pleasure Palace. Yes, prestige mattered. Prestige got one noticed. Got one featured on the PP website’s front page and thus guaranteed well-paying - no, scratch that, _best-paying_ \- clients. Previous to this day, Rhys had only ever serviced as high as department managers. He was still a small-time escort as far as anyone who mattered was concerned. But a _vice president_ was a small (hopefully, arguably) step away from the exec level, the place where the _real_ money happened, the sort of money that could set Rhys up for life. Rhys had overheard the escorts who got to work that level talking about what they were making, and it had always turned him _green with envy_.

Rhys sighed.

_What it would be like to work for Handsome Jack,_ he thought. Handsome Jack. CEO. Hero. King of Hyperion. The one high-level exec Rhys allowed himself to fantasize about, to entertain a lot of fan-love for. He admired the man’s accomplishments. In another life, Rhys would have loved to run a company just like this one, but this life had led him differently. 

Handsome Jack was everything. He wasn’t some stuffy, boring, old CEO who looked almost ready to retire, where people barely knew his name. He was younger than most CEO’s, could be anywhere from his thirties to his fifties. Stories spoke of all he had accomplished as an adventurer on Pandora. Vault openings, bandit slayings, wilds-taming.

Rhys wasn’t an idiot. He knew most of it was bullshit, a marketing scheme to put Hyperion on top by making its president seem larger than life. But he respected what it had accomplished, how well it’d worked. 

He knew that Jack as a person wasn’t the same as he was painted by Hyperion advertising. But even real Jack was more interesting than most CEOs. Though rarely seen by the low-level workers, most knew Jack as a voice that rang scathing or bored over the intercom, a notorious username **_~HJack69~_ **that caused trouble on random websites, or a bundle of energy that rushed through the hallways on good days, or darkened them on bad ones.

Oh. And also Handsome Jack had murderous and blackmailing tendencies that weren’t talked about much in the open, but provoked a lot of whispers behind closed doors.

So yeah. Rhys was safe fantasizing about fake Jack, the hero, the legend. He didn't exist. And he would never actually meet the _real_ Handsome Jack in person. He knew about the whole never meet your heroes blah blah-

Handsome Jack had become a name spoken with quiet annoyance at the Pleasure Palace. Many escorts had hoped to be hired by Handsome Jack, had done everything they could to appeal to him, but to no avail. Handsome Jack’s money was untouchable by the PP, a fact that annoyed Rhys’s supervisors. Rhys couldn’t feel the same. Whether it was because Jack didn’t want to blow money on something he could get for free, or because he was more monogamous than he seemed, (or even that it ensured Rhys was at a greater distance from the object of his fantasies) Rhys had to respect that small fact about Handsome Jack.

Rhys’s Echo Eye spotted his client in the crowd: a sharp-dressed, handsome man in a dark outfit and gold tie, large H’s emblazoned on the collar of his suit jacket. Rhys checked the time. Holloway was nearly ten minutes late. Not unexpected in the least, but slightly annoying.

“Ah, Rhys, I presume,” Holloway said, practically watering at the mouth when his eyes landed on Rhys. At least this would be easy, Rhys reflected. From his experience, he could already tell just _how_ easy this client would be.

“Yup, that’s me,” Rhys replied. He dropped his voice, filled it with honey, “ _Mr. Holloway_.”

“Excellent. I just have one…” the man fidgeted with the datapad he was carrying. “-matter, to attend to at my office. Would you accompany me?”

“Of course, handsome,” Rhys purred and batted his lashes.

Holloway grinned, eyes darkening with lust, but he led the way.

The hallways grew quieter with each step that led away from the Hub of Heriosm. In an elevator, Rhys laid on the flirting thick. By the time they reached Holloway’s office in a fancy hallway lined with plants and fountains - yes, Rhys could practically _feel_ the money here - Rhys knew he had his new client by the balls. Good, good. Holloway’s body language was practically begging, but Rhys made him wait.

Holloway may have been the client, but Rhys was the one in charge here. As always.

“You want- in the o-office?” Holloway said, the first stammer so far.

Oh, well, that was just _adorable_ , Rhys jeered in his head. Of course, this sort of client was right up his alley, but there were times when they just didn’t click right for him. And he was feeling that now. Whatever. Rhys didn’t have to click. This was a job, not a fling. “Mmhm,” he purred.

Holloway snatched his vest and pulled. This was about the time that Rhys began to wonder just what he was about to work with here, what kind of sex Holloway wanted. Holloway backed into the office, grinning, smug as anything. Rhys glanced up for a brief assessment of the office-

_What the hell?!_

Rhys reflexively yanked back from Holloway’s attempt to kiss him. Holloway looked miffed. Rhys jerked his head. Holloway followed the gesture, eyes widening and hands going limp, relinquishing their hold on Rhys.

With a jilted smile and a loose stance that betrayed something darker, _Handsome goddamned Jack him-fucking-self_ stood by Holloway’s desk. “Well, well, well,” he said. His voice was edged with fury, his expression all perfect white teeth. “Ain’t this amusing?” Rhys backed up, hitting the automatic door. It was supposed to open, but of course, it _didn’t_. It remained a wall between him and safety. With a glance above his shoulder, Rhys saw the red light on the door. Who locked it? Handsome Jack? Or Holloway? Shit shit shit-

_Don’t panic, this has nothing to do with you-_

Even with Rhys’s big plans to work for execs, Rhys hadn’t ever anticipated encountering Handsome Jack in person - _Helios was big_ , and the executive suites weren’t that close to Jack’s penthouse. Even the offices were far away from Jack’s. Jack’s office could only be accessed from the Hub of Heroism elevator, a weird location, but it’d worked to the advantage of all of Rhys’s calculations.

Rhys had had lofty goals, but he hadn’t meant to launch himself past the moon into the fucking sun.

Guess he’d miscalculated. Or had just gotten very unlucky.

He knew it was the latter. This was just like the time he’d nearly gotten hired as a programmer for Hyperion but then a rich student had bought out the manager and Rhys had lost it all. Only his chances of dying were much higher now.

“Holloway, Holloway,” Handsome Jack said, voice ringing with chastisement. His too-intense, mismatched eyes flicked between the two of them. Rhys shrunk. Handsome Jack sounded different in real life to Rhys than he did in the vids, or over the intercom. It was a richer, more powerful, sound. Handsome Jack chuckled. “Having _fun_?” he growled, stepping forward.

“Erm- Sir,” Holloway attempted, “I… I don’t know what this is about, I was under the impression that-”

“Not one clue, eh?” Jack asked, spreading his arms dramatically. “Then let me give you a hint, since you’re so clearly an idiot. It starts with a shit company called Maliwan, and ends with this little thing.” Handsome Jack held up a small device that apparently Holloway recognized. All of the color drained from his face.

Rhys tried to calm his racing heart. _Just stay calm._ This wasn’t his business, he kept reminding himself. He just had to get out of the room. But how? He scanned the door with his Echo Eye, but there was no way to hack it. Yes, he had a hacking feature because he thought it might come in handy, but apparently it was useless when he _truly_ needed it.

He cleared his throat, drawing both gazes. “I’m...not a part of this, and I hate to interfere-”

Jack stepped towards them, hands flexing. "No, _no_ , pumpkin, you’re staying. Right. There.”

Holy fucking shit. Rhys’s stomach dropped to his toes, heart slamming against his ribcage. His eyes darted around the room, trying to locate a hiding spot, or maybe something that could defend him. It was insane to think of. He knew that if Jack decided him harm, there was nothing he could really do. But he had to try. Right? He couldn't just _die._ Not without trying. 

Right? 

He saw nothing but a desk and a personal bathroom. Well, wasn’t that _fancy_.

Handsome Jack was once again focused on Holloway. “Aren’t you gonna start blabbering excuses at me, idiot?”

“Th-that is the-” Holloway cleared his throat. “-potential file for Project Y. As I went over in the meeting. I drew it up in an attempt to woo the Maliwan overseer. As planned. The data is highly falsified-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Handsome Jack said, twirling the datadrive. “You think I’m an idiot or something?”

“N-no, I was just recapping-”

“Here’s the thing, I went over your _falsified_ information and it checked out...Save for this friggin’ thing.” Jack tapped the datadrive and a graph appeared. “Five. Seven. Five. Four. Eight.” Jack glared at it. Rhys had no idea what was going on at this point. “Was the access code for the _real_ numbers...and guess where that code was imbedded? Right in your so-called _falsified_ data.”

Holloway looked like he might have a heart attack. “I...that’s uh, impossible, sir! I went over it dozens of times-”

“Then how the frig is it still there?” Handsome Jack hissed, tossing the drive onto the floor. “ _How_ ?” He repeated, jabbing his fingers forward. “There are two explanations. One, you’re an incompetent moron. Or two, you were trying to sell secrets, and judging by the fat deposit into your account and the attempted hacking that took three skilled techs and one AI to stop...I should guess...the _latter_.” He took another step towards Holloway.

With Handsome Jack’s rage focused on someone else, Rhys began inching his way along the wall toward the bathroom. He prayed to anything that might listen he could slip in there unnoticed, that the vicious president of Hyperion would forget he existed. He knew that all the whispers about Handsome Jack's murderous rage were true. 

“N-no, I didn’t.” Holloway was shaking his head wildly. “T-the deposit was from the original plan, it was a mistake- I would never _betray_ Hyperion- I, just give me a chance, sir, I’ll fix it and then-”

“Nah, nah, we’re done playin’ _games_ ,” Handsome Jack snarled, closing in on Holloway, fists clenching. “You couldn’t have made a data mistake- not when you’re this high up the ladder. There has to be some numbers competence in that skull. Bumbling screw ups are one thing. But Traitors - _liars_ ? The absolute worst, lower than dirt.” He spat on the floor. “You have everything you could ever want. A well-paying job, benefits, a good home, hell, hot people to bed - but then you turn around and sell us out. And _whoops, you aren’t even that good at it_ . Did you really think I wouldn’t _find out_. I spent all night parsing that damn code.”

“P-please.”

Holloway’s eyes shot to Rhys, wide and pleading. Rhys shook his head, hard, but his legs were shaking with each step closer to safety. He wasn’t going to feel guilty. This wasn’t his fault. It sounded like Holloway had screwed up, big time, and that had nothing to do with him. Nope, nope, this was not his business, not even a little. He was just an escort. He shouldn’t even be here. God, why did he have the absolute _worst luck_ -

Holloway switched back to Handsome Jack, something like fire in his eyes. “It...it was _him_!” he yelled, breaking the moment. Rhys froze, a mere few feet from the bathroom door, his mouth going dry. He made an aborted motion at Holloway. Handsome Jack’s head tilted and followed Holloway’s finger to Rhys, brows furrowed. Rhys couldn’t breathe, or speak, or think.

Holloway’s eyes widened in mock-realization. _"_ He...he seduced me." _What?!_ "He must have gotten the numbers and edited the document! He must’ve had _access,_ with those implants-”

Rhys gaped at Holloway, anger breaking his stillness. “Are you fucking serious, asshole? I don’t-”

Handsome Jack barked a laugh. “Oh, Holloway, you are a _tool_!” Jack howled. “I can’t even tell if you believe that or not-” Jack busted a gut then and there, as if he had just been told the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

Rhys saw Holloway whip something out and realized this was all just a distraction. A _gun._ “Sir-!” Rhys cried out in alarm.

Handsome Jack spun back to Holloway. Holloway shot the weapon at Jack. Rhys dropped into a huddle on instinct at the deafening noise. He heard it continue until the weapon went click. His ears rang, blood pounding through his skull. By the time the ringing had faded, all he heard was a dull scuffling and gagging. He risked a glance up. His eyes widened.

Handsome Jack straddled Holloway, strangling the life out of him. “Friggin’ shitbag!” Jack growled. Holloway sputtered, hands clawing Jack’s arms, to no avail. His pistol was out of reach on the floor, must’ve been lost in whatever scuffle Rhys had missed. Jack’s hair was all out of place, falling messily over his brow and ears, flecks of blood on his mask, face twisted into the nastiest look of hatred Rhys had ever seen. It was...disconcerting. His clothes were disheveled, and he heaved breaths like he had run a marathon.

Rhys had to remember how to breathe. “ _Jeezus_ ,” he muttered.

“Pl- please…” Holloway grunted, eyes darting to Rhys.

Rhys sank lower to the ground. Fear. And...something less respectable pooled inside of him. He was glad he wasn’t clearly visible at this point, huddled low, most of the room between him and the point of violence. He shook his head and started to slink back towards that bathroom, so close, so far.

Rhys was halted by Jack’s voice. It wasn’t directed at him, but he still couldn’t move.

“Oh if you’re still talkin,” Jack was muttering, “then I’m obviously not pushin’ hard enough!” Rhys heard more choking. Holy shit, holy shit he was about to hear someone die right in this very room! He….he wasn’t anywhere near prepared for that! He’d been on Helios for years now, and he’d known of people taken down by the internal corporate subterfuge and power struggles, but never had he _witnessed_ it, nor had he planned to.

He heard a sickening crunch and gagged. A violent heave hit him. He leapt up, rushing to that bathroom. He lost his breakfast in the toilet.

Jack’s murderous tendencies had never been a secret. But to actually _see_ it. Rhys’s hands shook against the bowl as he tried to regain himself. The taste in his mouth made him want to heave again, but he took several deep breaths, trying to calm stomach.

There was a knock. Rhys jumped. Handsome Jack’s voice filtered through the door, causing Rhys to flinch yet again. “What’s the matter, cupcake, you that weak-stomached? Get out here!”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Rhys stammered, heart thundering. Was he next? For a fleeting second, he was grateful the bathroom automatically locked. Then he realized Jack wouldn’t be deterred by that for long. Helios was under his command. If he wanted in this bathroom, he would get in. Yeah, the lock delayed things, but Rhys knew it was pointless to draw this out. “I’ll ...I’lll be out...in just a second, sir.” So much for hoping that Jack would forget about him.

“You have exactly _two minutes_ to finish up. Then, I’m _dragging_ your ass out, pumpkin!”

Rhys was going to die, wasn’t he? It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. And there he’d been, convinced he’d been very careful throughout his career as a prostitute. But he hadn’t. He’d underestimated Holloway’s stupidity. And he was going to die because of it.

How was he to know Handsome Jack _himself_ would have beef with his client?

Would Jack strangle him too? Put his hands around Rhys’s throat and _squeeze_? Damn it, why did he want to think about that? Rhys shook the thoughts away. They weren’t helping.

He found some mouthwash in the cabinet and helped himself to it, rinsing out his mouth very thoroughly. Because like hell was he dying with vomit breath. Rhys had dignity left, you know.

“One. Minute. Kiddo, before I lose what little patience your now-dead shitbag boyfriend didn’t use up!”

“I...I’m coming,” Rhys replied in a weak voice, too riddled with terror to try and correct Jack’s assumption on his relationship to Holloway. Rhys walked out of the bathroom on unsteady legs, trying to find his stride, his confidence. It was all gone now and he couldn’t summon it back. Rhys deliberately did not look where the corpse would be. He let his gaze fall to the floor, heart in his throat.

Jack gripped his shirt and slammed him against the wall. It winded Rhys, bruising his back.

Yep. This was how he died. Rhys regretted not trying to hide in the bathroom for awhile longer. Long enough to think of some good final words, at least. He had nothing.

A hand wound around his throat, just as he'd assumed it would. God this wasn't how he wanted to die. Rhys closed his eyes, shaking.

But the strangulating pressure Rhys expected didn’t come.

“Hey, look at me,” Handsome Jack growled, voice heavy with warning. Rhys complied, but it was difficult. Handsome Jack’s eyes were still screaming murder, his looks still bedraggled. He was so close, Rhys could feel hot breaths of air against his skin. Breaths that smelled kind of minty.

Rhys swallowed, hard.

“Aren’t you quite the eye candy.” Handsome Jack rumbled out of nowhere, thumb flicking against Rhys’s pulse point. “Mind telling me who the frig you _are, sweetheart_?”

Eye candy? _Sweetheart_ ? This was a bit much, right? Were his looks actually distracting Jack? It was highly possible. Rhys had confused plenty of “straight” men before. Could he use that to his advantage here? Maybe this was a good sign. Would Handsome Jack care about his name if he were truly about to murder him? But he _did_ still have a hand around Rhys’s neck, so...he couldn’t get too hopeful yet. Rhys smiled, slow and sweet. “...Name’s Rhys,” he murmured.

“Reeece? That sounds fake.”

Rhys became indignant, his seductive edge sliding away. “Well, it’s _not_ . Check the records at the Pleasure Palace.” It took a minute to realize who he was getting short with, and he added… “ _sir_.”

“Calm down, kit- Wait a minute, did you say _the Pleasure Palace_ ?” Handsome Jack’s brows went up. “You’re a _whore_?”

“Yes, sir. Eloquently put.”

“Well that explains why you look like you walked off the cover of a gay porno.”

Rhys shot back without thinking, “you know what those look like, huh?”

Jack opened his mouth. He closed it, glaring. “...Y’know… You’re awful _mouthy_ for someone I caught getting intimate with a _traitor_.” Jack’s hand squeezed lightly, another warning.

Rhys raised his hands, swallowing. “Joke. Sorry. And I didn’t know he was a traitor, okay?” Damn it, what was wrong with him? He wasn’t out of danger yet! He just needed to put his head down and maybe Handsome Jack would let him live. He couldn’t explain why their friction was making him snappy. It just was, and he needed to contain it.

“So _why_ were you with Mr. Bullshit over there.”

“Why do you think? Whore, remember? I was hired.”

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Grumpy, I’m just gonna check your story reaaaal quick,” Handsome Jack said. He relinquished his hold on Rhys long enough to pull up a holoprojection. It was a website, Rhys realized, the PP’s. “People love to lie to me around here, as you probably noticed…. Hmmm...I’m not getting anything for _Reece_.”

Rhys frowned. “That’s because you’re spelling it wrong. R-H-Y-S.”

“Rice, got it.”

“Rhys.”

“Rice.”

“ _Rhys_.”

“That makes no sense. Your parents were idiots.”

Rhys stood there, face pinching. He knew better than to tell Jack who was actually being an idiot here. Jack’s murderous mood seemed to have dissipated with this new distraction, and Rhys didn’t intend to change it back. “Ahah! Found ya, Rice! So you _were_ being honest after all! Surprising!” Jack let out a whistle. “Damn, check you out, _kitten_ , looks like you’re quite an _item_ there, eh? Five stars! Lots of good pics, uh, _damn-_ ”

Rhys cleared his throat. And spoke the words he couldn't stop. “Aren’t you supposed to be straight?”

“I mean…” Handsome Jack closed out of the site. “Yeah, but even _I_ have to admit you're photogenic, right?”

Right. Photogenic. Of course. Still, Rhys might have preened in any other situation to be complimented by Handsome Jack. And okay, he did preen a bit anyway, if he was honest. But the effect was considerably lessened when he remembered there was a dead body in here and that Handsome Jack hadn’t ever said he was letting him live.

“So, um...can I go?” Rhys dared. He had to find out at some point.

“Wait a minute,” Jack said, looking at him, hard. Rhys tried not to wilt under the intense gaze. “Just one question, princess. You wouldn’t have anything else on Mr. Dead Idiot over there I might need to know, would ya?”

Rhys shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. You can check with the Pleasure Palace if you don’t believe me, but this was literally my first appointment. I know pretty much nothing about Holloway except for the fact he tested negative for STIs.”

“Right. That was probably because he couldn’t get laid without hiring whores. Well, that’s probably it, then. Good thing I ridded this station of his lyin’, pathetic, traitorous ass, eh?”

“Yup. Such a great thing,” Rhys said. Now that he felt a bit more confident he wasn’t going to die, he found himself lamenting the loss of a well-paying client. Hopefully word wouldn’t spread too far. He didn’t need his reputation being soiled by this.

“Anyway…” Handsome Jack hesitated for a moment, looking him up and down. “Are...your services for hire now, pumpkin, seeing as I just offed your last client?”

Rhys scoffed. “Are...you serious?”

“Jus’ wondering.”

Rhys let that slowly register. “I...suppose I might be.” Did...Handsome Jack want to _hire_ him? As the full implications of that thought hit, he had to take a moment to breathe. _Holy shit-_

“I am...recently single,” Handsome Jack started, sounding awkward. He was a million miles different from the hot-blooded killer from moments ago. “Which is irrelevant. Point is, this handsome stallion has a whole lot of built up stamina now. Haven’t had the proper outlet or time to let it out. So uh...could do with a hot piece of ass at my beck an’ call.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed. “Are you...saying what I think you’re saying, oh Straight One?”

“Look, kiddo. Don’t get it twisted. This doesn’t count. I’m offering you a _job_ , not a _fling_ . It’s not gay to pay you to get my dick wet. And I did take your last job, so this just seems fair, eh? I’d pay ya _handsomely_ .” Handsome Jack’s brows wiggled. “Far more than _that_ idiot was paying ya, I’m sure. And I’m far more worth it than him. All in all, a better deal.”

Wonderful. Repression. Internalized homophobia. _That_ would be fun to deal with. Still, Rhys put his hands out. “Look, I won’t even discuss this unless one, there’s no dead bodies in the same room as me, and two, you fill out an application online for my services first, submitted with a profile.”

“What, you mean like... _everyone else_?” Jack’s eye twitched.

Shit. Rhys didn’t need Handsome Jack offended. “It’s a safety measure, alright? I do it so I don’t die. This isn’t exactly the safest company to sell one’s body in.”

“Fine,” Handsome Jack said, “well, nevermind that. Totally ain’t worth it, especially for someone without boobs. Don’t need to pay anyone anyway. Sure there’s plenty who’d take it for free. Just forget it. I’m going.”

Rhys watched him walk away, leaving the office unlocked. He was weirdly disappointed. But this was probably for the better, right? Handsome Jack was supposed to be off limits. Still...he’d had the opportunity for the biggest fish in the sea here. Several escorts would’ve taken that deal without thinking. His supervisor would probably _want them to._

Maybe he should have forgone his usual routes.

No. He couldn’t work for anyone unless it was done correctly. He stood by his rules.

In truth, Rhys wasn’t sure if he could handle working for Jack. Even if it gained him all the money and prestige on the station, he would probably pay the price with his life. In the end, that wasn’t worth it

Rhys left the office quickly, ignoring the body of his former client.


	3. HJack69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is surprisingly persistent...

Lying in bed that evening, scrolling through the Echonet, Rhys thought about Handsome Jack. He had The Shirt against his neck. Its scent had faded a lot, but he found its presence comforting.

The encounter with Handsome Jack had been terrifying. But looking back, it was also an amazing thing, having met Hyperion’s infamous CEO and living to tell about it. And that unexpected offer… If he’d accepted… What kind of pay would Jack had given him? A lot. The most any escort could hope for. But just _how_ much? Somewhere in the five or six digits possibly? If he’d accepted, he would’ve learned the scent of Jack’s clothes and skin, one of the things he’d been wondering about since getting home to The Shirt and reflecting it was about the right size to fit Jack. Even though he’d gotten close, he hadn’t been close _enough_. Or maybe he’d been too distracted by his fear. Either way, he had no idea.

He needed to get over this weird obsessive mode his brain had gone into. Handsome Jack was dangerous. Too dangerous. The fact he was this disappointed and fixated probably was even more indication he’d made the right choice. He didn’t _ever_ let his work get personal. Damn him for all his previous fantasizing. Damn him for being too careful.

Well.

With the late hour and his declining mood, he knew it was time to shut down and roll over for some sleep. Or at least try. Tomorrow, he had to get back into his work. There’d likely be some applicants for him to parse through in the morning.

A message came in on his Echo Eye.

Damn it, why would someone bother him so late? It was after 2200 hours.

_~~rhys?_

_~Yes?_

_~~so the PP gave me this number._

Where had this come from? The Pleasure Palace wasn’t supposed to give out personal info. He’d probably have to talk to someone. Maybe some new secretary who didn’t know the rules yet _~You’ll have to apply online. I don’t do this over messaging. I have to have your profile and everything before I even think about it_

The person typed for quite a bit, as if undecided on what to say and kept erasing. But finally.

 _~~yeah. i am_ **_very much_ ** _aware of that. may wanna check my username, dork_

Rhys did. He blinked. Scrubbed his eyes. Hard

 ** _~HJack69~_ **remained in his screen.

There was no way this was real. Not when Handsome Jack had written him off the way he had. Rhys stared for a long time. He finally sent back _~Are you pranking me? Because of earlier?_

~~ _not this time, buttercup. btw, i did send you the information on the website like you keep saying but i got bored waiting for u to check so demanded the information from the PP. ha, PP. its really funny when people think/say that, huh?_

Rhys sprung up from bed and went to his computer. It could be someone else using the same ID after all. But he wasn’t sure he believed that. The odds were astronomically unlikely. Although the same could be said about the odds of Handsome Jack wanting to hire him in the first place. He logged in, missing his password a few times in his haste. He checked his messages.

It wasn’t a joke.

There it was. The information profile from Handsome Jack. Facts had been redacted including age, weight, race, and sexual history, ect... In fact, most of it was. And what little was left, Rhys couldn’t even be sure if it was truth or not. Plus, there was a nice little unnecessary addition at the end assuring Rhys that Jack had a big dick and an attached photo file that was almost certainly a picture of it based on the preview window.

Yep. It was. And fuck it looked good to boot.

Rhys let out the largest sigh he'd ever held.

This was _unacceptable_ . Even when asked to, Handsome Jack hadn’t played by his rules. Yes, he’d _technically_ done as Rhys had asked, but not in a meaningful way. Anyone else and Rhys wouldn’t have even reached the end of this mess of a profile before declining. But this _was_ Handsome Jack...and there would probably have to be some exceptions if one worked directly for him. He was king of the hill, so to speak.

_No, no, no, bad idea to actually consider this... You can’t do this, Rhys. You know your limits. Handsome Jack would chew you up and spit you out an airlock in less than a day. He’d want a docile babe. That isn’t who you are. Your mouth would just offend him, like it nearly did before, but to the point of murder next time._

But...couldn’t he? If he tried? It wasn’t hard to just _shut his mouth and obey_ , was it…? The thought didn’t settle well. Sure, it was _easier_ to consider for Handsome Jack himself, but… He would be out of practice. Wouldn’t know how to hold his tongue when he should. Risky as hell. Damn it, how the hell had this sort of decision - this temptation of the devil - fallen to him? There were tens of thousands of people on this station. There were hundreds upon hundreds of escorts. And even then, hundreds upon hundreds of people who’d blow Jack for free. There was no reason for Jack to hire _him_. None.

But here he was, sweating bullets over a fucked-all decision.

He hovered over the decline option. What a power move that would be. To hit it without a word. What a _rush_ it would be. What would Jack even _do_? Would he get so pissed he’d hunt Rhys down and...well...

It wasn’t like Rhys could hide. The Pleasure Palace would roll over and give Handsome Jack whatever he wanted, including his address. If it wasn't already in Helios's database to begin with. It probably was. Would Handsome Jack kill over something like that? Surely not… But Rhys had watched someone die at Handsome Jack’s hands today. He wasn't so confident. And stories prevailed of the man's murderous rages...

The exact kind of client Rhys would normally give a hard pass on.

Rhys gave a strained laugh into the bedroom before locking his hands behind his head and leaning back. What did he _do_ ? He hadn’t felt _this_ conflicted in a long time. _Bet he thinks he’s so smart…setting up that bogus profile to circumvent me. Maybe that's why he did it. I put an obstacle in front of him and he didn't like backing down from it._

Wouldn't that be a killer? Rhys's caution becoming the thing that had painted a target on his back.

Rhys returned to the chat. _~what if I say no?_ He dared. The only way this would go down the right way was if he were...mostly honest.

_~~r u stupid or something???_

_~It’s not that I **want** to turn you down. _ He _really_ didn’t want to. _~Your money looks real nice, sir... And your dick. But let’s just say I have an interest in preserving my life_

_~~Ur really that worried about danger, princess?_

_~As I told you...Hyperion is hardly the safest place. And I imagine up there on your end it’s even more unsafe._

_~~U keep talkin about ‘danger’ and ‘safety’ but something tells me u ain’t a dainty fraidy flower like you keep sounding like. y r u even working here at Hyperion?? U got more balls than this, babe. an you didn’t buckle when I had my hand on ur neck, did ya? U didn’t fall down and beg when I offed that shitbag client of yours. Most people woulda_

A second message followed after more typing. _~~More balls than most people I meet ‘round here, anyway. U saw how that traitor was when he faced me. Could barely talk. That is how most of these idiots act, but worse, even when they’re doing shit CORRECTLY_

 _~~But you, sunshine... you went and got_ **_mouthy_ ** _with me when everyone else would’ve been shittin themselves. Because you aren’t a weak little baby . Or so I thot_

_~~not that I **want** ya to be mouthy with me. But I don’t wanna bang someone who’s afraid of me. Does not set well with me _

_That..._ was why Jack wanted to hire him? Because Rhys hadn’t cowered from him? Interesting… That...did make a strange kind of sense. Rhys leaned forward, an intense feeling he couldn’t fully explain settling in his gut. It shortened his breath just a bit. Excitement. Maybe a bit of arousal.

Jack didn’t want a docile babe. Not what Rhys had expected, but god if it didn’t make him want this _more_. This was not easy.

And Jack was right. While Rhys had been careful with his clients, his job hadn’t always been completely safe. Safety was not a Hyperion guarantee. But he’d chosen to be here of any place. And after all these years of working at this dangerous company, he still breathed, was alive and arguably well. And after all these years...he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy some of the danger.

 _Maybe...I_ could _do this._

Handsome Jack sent another message. _~~anyway, as far as...danger is concerned. if ur with me, ain’t nobody gonna harm ya cuz people know better than to mess with my shit_

An electric feeling ran down Rhys’s body. That actually was arousal that time, if the sudden tightness of pants was an indicator.

Fuck.

He tapped his fingers, bounced his leg, almost every last part of him saying yes. Only one last hesitation...

Rhys typed. _~Just tell me what you would do if I said no_

_~~...I don’t understand this_

_~~But I’ll humor you, cupcake._

_~~the answer is nothing. You can return to your pathetic life of serving pathetic people and always lament the passed opportunity. So what’s it gonna be_

Rhys almost leapt out of his seat with how much that pleased him. At least Handsome Jack knew there were some things even _he_ couldn’t have without permission. Rhys looked at the profile one last time.

_~~God you're barely worth this effort y am I even still messaging_

_Because he..._ wants _me._ Rhys realized. It was weird how hard Jack was working for this, if he thought about it. He swallowed. Hard.

There was no way he could say no.

_~I’m accepting your offer._

_~~some common sense! Here I was beginning to think you were in short supply of that!_

_~Alright, sir, when do you want to set up the meet and greet to go over the finer details of...the arrangement._

_~~thought you didn’t do this over messaging, pumpkin_

_~For you, I’ll make an exception._

_~cute. but that’s what I like to hear. appointment tomorrow at 1100 my office. also u aren’t actually hired yet, btw. its an interview. don’t be late. i will send directions to you so I know who to blame if u r late. hint: not me_

_~Thank you, Handsome Jack, sir_

_Careless,_ a small voice whispered in Rhys’s head. _Careless fool_

 _No,_ he argued back. _I took all the precautions._

_But what if it’s not enough?_

“Oooh my god!” Rhys exclaimed in the silence of his room, pulling at his hair. He was very likely going to have _sex_ with Handsome Jack, of all people. And be _paid_ to do it. Paid a _lot_. What was the world coming to? Assuming he was hired. Jack had said it was just an interview, but with how Jack had went out his way to pursue him...it seemed unlikely Jack _wouldn’t_ hire him. Unless he really screwed up tomorrow somehow.

He only knew one thing for sure… He was one hell of a sunova bitch. Lucky or unlucky? He couldn’t yet tell.

But time would.


	4. Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update is a bit late. I wanted to do it sooner but work's been kicking my ass. but I'll probably post the next chapter a lil sooner because of my lateness :D. Hopefully.

Rhys jolted awake to an emergency message on his Echo Eye. It didn’t take long to realize why. Mr. Bryant, his supervisor, wanted to meet immediately, it said. Rhys scrubbed his eyes and looked at the time. 0500 hours. Great. Rhys wasn’t happy with this. Deprived of sleep on the day of his interview with Handsome Jack. Ugh… He hoped that didn't hinder his ability to impress Jack. 

This wasn’t exactly surprising. Mr. Bryant must’ve found out about Handsome Jack’s application submission to him first thing this morning and freaked out over it. 

Rhys was not looking forward to it. He should've expected this. 

Within an hour, he’d dressed, tidied up, and dragged himself down to the Pleasure Palace and into his manager’s office with a cup of coffee. He knew he didn’t look great right now, hair still damp and messy from the shower, clothes hastily donned, but he couldn’t be bothered to care too much. If he made attempts at his appearances, he’d be pushing his luck on his timeframe. He would need to really make himself look nice for his meeting with Jack later, and that was after he got in lunch so his stomach wasn’t growling through the interview. How embarrassing that would be.

“Mr. Bryant,” he greeted, standing before Bryant’s desk, sipping his coffee.

“Take a seat, please. Rhys.”

Rhys and Bryant had a mutual dislike of each other. Bryant was...somehow exactly what one would expect from a man in his position. Gross. Physically and mentally. A pervert with a greasy mustache and bald head. But any neutral ground they might’ve found had been ruined after they’d argued about Rhys’s “lack of an official diet and exercise program”. Rhys didn’t know why it pissed Bryant off so much. There were no company rules for workers’ diets or exercise regimens, but Bryant had complained about Rhys’s “soft stomach ruining" his "full potential” and “the company’s profits”.

Rhys had strongly disagreed. “People love soft tummies.”

Bryant had sneered, “No, they want muscles, idiot, especially from people _like you_.”

People like him. Rhys suspected that the argument had more to do with the fact that he...had a certain way he entertained his clients. Rhys knew he looked the part of a submissive. And yeah he liked it up the ass. But he wasn't truly submissive. Too sassy, too bossy, too much of a mean defiant streak under everything else. And there were plenty of potential clients who were disappointed to find that out. He could play the role to a certain extent, but he tried to avoid it because it was easy to mess up. That was less money brought in, and less money annoyed Bryant.

But Bryant couldn’t really do much about Rhys’s preferences. So he’d tried to change Rhys’s physical image. Neither had worked.

Also Bryant probably just hated that Rhys was a nobody who acted like a _somebody_. And Bryant was also probably jealous of how absolutely stunning he was. 

“Why did I have to contact you?” Bryant interrogated, glaring at Rhys over his glasses. “This is the biggest deal of your so-far-insignificant life, and you can’t be bothered to give me heads up?” His gross pornstache twitched. 

“I was trying to sleep.”

“And yet you were awake enough to accept the application and arrange an interview!”

“Weren’t _you_ asleep and wouldn’t have known until this morning anyway?”

Bryant huffed. “Damn you. After all these years of trying to land the richest client on the station with all my best escorts, I would love to know how you, a mediocre at best, managed to, especially right after your previous client got executed by him for being a traitor.”

“Guess Handsome Jack gets horny after murder.”

He’d said it to get a rise out of the man. It worked. Mr. Bryant stood up, face starting to go red. “If I find out there was any unofficial sexual activity between you and-”

“There wasn’t,” Rhys said with raised hands. “Even Handsome Jack has to fill out the application.” It might have been funny if there had been, though. Bryant would’ve been super pissed because “unofficial” sexual contact was unpaid sexual contact. And unpaid meant fewer profits for the Pleasure Palace.

Mr. Bryant grumbled something about Rhys’s idiotic mouth but sat down. Another thing he apparently didn't like about Rhys. 

“Maybe you’ve been sleeping with flourishing talent right under your nose,” Rhys said, couldn’t help but be a bit smug. “You always did deny my skill.”

“Skill? I know you, Rhys. And I frankly don’t think you can handle this assignment.” Bryant folded his arms. “The reason you couldn’t get ahead before was because of clients like Mr. Holloway. Your best land. But even he was still just another pissbaby in the long run. That’s what you like, right? Easy bitches you can wrangle and manipulate. Anyone too strong is too much for you. That’s not skill. That’s taking the easy route. Hellooo, you can’t handle Handsome Jack. And you know it, don’t you? Just admit it. You’re blinded by the dollar signs-”

“Frankly, Mr. Bryant, my ability to handle this job is between myself and Handsome Jack.” Rhys leaned forward. “And as much as I love money, I also love being alive. Well, maybe love is a strong word, but I don’t plan on dying. I wouldn’t accept if I didn’t think I could do this. I have reason to believe that Handsome Jack does not, in fact, want an easy lay.”

Bryant’s expression grew pinched. “And yet, even if that were true, I’m not convinced you could handle it!”

“Look at it this way,” Rhys said, trying to find an angle that would placate his supervisor. As much as he loved pissing this asshole off, he just wanted to be done with this conversation so he could focus on his upcoming interview with Jack. “Jack isn’t shopping around right now. And I know I’m an acceptable loss. If you’re correct and I can’t handle this, then you can push someone else his way once I’m gone. But until then, Jack chose me.”

Bryant’s tone became more plaintive. “I just can’t comprehend it...why? Why you?”

Rhys almost grinned. This must really be salt in the wound for Bryant. There for awhile, Bryant had devoted so much time and energy to training his escorts to hook Jack. And it'd never taken. Rhys remembered how Jack had told him that he liked that Rhys hadn’t shied away from him. Ah, if only poor Bryant knew, he thought smugly. “Then again. Something tells me Jack doesn’t like being told who he should bang. Maybe that’s why he chose me instead of all those high classed babes you were throwing at him.” He allowed some pride to trickle into his voice.

“Maybe I should’ve thrown my less than ideal escorts at him from the beginning. Escorts like you.” Bryant really did look like he’d eaten something sour. “Don’t screw this up. As much as I'd love to see you thrown out an airlock, this is important. You represent us...for better or worse. Definitely worse.” After a lot more frowning, Bryant waved his hand. “Fine. Do the interview. Just remember... _Everyone_ will be watching you…. And I will be at the very front of that line. Because, _Rhys_ , if I see even _one_ ounce of dissatisfaction from Handsome Jack... Well, if you mess this up, and somehow survive that? I will _fire_ you. And just how long do you expect to last on this station without this job?”

“Yes, yes,” Rhys muttered, “I know. Don’t worry so much. I’m not as bad at this as you like to think.”

“Alright, then, get your skinny ass out of my sight until you have some good news.”

* * *

Rhys wished his steps were far less cautious as he walked into the cavernous space that was Handsome Jack’s office. This wasn’t his usual march into a client’s meeting place of choice. Usually he could summon more confidence, more aura, more sex appeal. He hated to admit it, but Bryant had undermined some of his courage. Even if Handsome Jack didn’t want a passive, submissive lay, he likely wasn’t going to be an easy client. What if Rhys wasn’t good enough, as Bryant had suggested? What if he disappointed? There was a lot riding on his success. Heh. Riding.

Rhys wondered if he would get to do that to Jack.

Handsome Jack wanted him, he reminded himself. _Wanted_. _Him_. Not someone else. He couldn’t afford to shy away now.

He’d heard stories of Handsome Jack’s office, but could never have imagined he would get to walk in here in his lifetime. It was every bit as impressive as people said, and then some - slick, well-polished flooring, glittering gold rugs, giant fountains, an actual sitting area with plants, a sofa, some chairs, and a fake fireplace. Rhys imagined the nearby bathroom was likely decked out in gold. It effortlessly put Holloway’s office to shame. The huge statues of Handsome Jack were...interesting. The man had an ego, that was a definite. It almost helped him relax. Rhys was used to working with egomaniacs. Hyperion attracted a certain type of employee. Even among the nicer ones, egos were larger than planets around here. Handsome Jack’s was probably the size of the galaxy.

He reflected that Handsome Jack would definitely be into cock worship. He filed that thought away for later.

He just had to not disappoint Handsome Jack in this interview. Easy right? No pressure or anything.

Breathe. Breathe.

He had to trust his instincts, that he hadn’t made a mistake.

He drew closer to the golden throne faced away from him. From Handsome Jack’s raised voice, Rhys could tell he was on call. Rhys paused before the steps that lead up to the dais the desk sat on. Even here Jack wanted to be above everyone else. Rhys didn’t want to get too close until the call was over. He checked the time. He was ten minutes early.

Rhys wasn’t ready. Would never be ready for this. But there was no turning back now. Well. Possibly. If he ran really fast-

Handsome Jack’s voice raised from the chair. Rhys could hear what he was saying, “oh my god, do those idiots get off on bein’ friggin stupid or something?! They can’t tell a money-maker from a pile of skag turds! ...Well, yeah, just, it’s friggin _E-tech._ Everyone knows it sells better than...I dunno, sex toys, let’s say- and they still want to reduce the lines for it-”

Rhys studied the contents of Handsome Jack’s desk. A computer, a framed photograph facing away from him, a few documents...an open bag of hard pretzels on the corner. Not exactly the snack of a king. What did that make Jack? A man of less-than-ideal tastes? It seemed odd a trillionaire would even be near such lame junk snacks. Rhys hoped this wasn’t indicative of Handsome Jack’s overall tastes… Well...Jack had chosen him, so surely not… And he was surrounded by an office that reeked of wealthy tastes.

He decided it was best not to question it.

Rhys hooked his hands behind his back, staring out the huge window to Pandora below.

What were Jack’s preferences in a sexual context? Was Handsome Jack super kinky? If so, they would have to negotiate some rules-

Rhys almost snorted. Nah. The more he thought about it, the more he doubted. His more emotionally challenged clients tended to be the most vanilla. It was pretty obvious which category Handsome Jack fell into. That was fine by him. It was easier that way. Easier… But not easy. Oh no, Handsome Jack would not make this easy for him.

Handsome Jack’s sharp voice brought Rhys from his thoughts. “Well, those morons better figure it out by this afternoon, or that department’s gettin' some cuts! And I don’t just mean the budget kind! Anyway, I gotta get.” Rhys heard an aggressive tap. Handsome Jack’s chair swiveled around.

Their eyes locked.

Rhys froze up like a prey animal caught in a spotlight. Rhys told himself not to do to that, do something else, do literally anything else-

Handsome Jack’s face became pinched for a few moments, morphing into confusion. He looked like he was trying to remember something.

Rhys smiled, hoping it came off friendly and not sheepish. “Hey.”

“Heey," Jack said slowly, "er- It’s been a long day, princess, could ya maybe do me a favor and explain to me why the hell you’re in my office, fancy as you please?”

Rhys had chosen similar attire to what he’d been wearing when they first met. He’d hoped it might appeal to Handsome Jack, since the first time around had… But now it...was like Handsome Jack didn’t remember? How was that possible? Or was this some kind of test? Rhys swallowed. “I’m Rhys...from the Pleasure Palace. We met yesterday when... Er, you contacted me and made this appointment…” He shuffled a foot. Jack hadn’t forgotten that whole fiasco with Holloway, had he?

Handsome Jack furrowed his brow, setting his elbows on the desk. “Is this some kinda joke?”

Rhys's heart almost stopped. “What? No, I have the message and everything to prove-”

Handsome Jack laughed and slapped his knee. “Ah, oh my god- you shoulda- shoulda seen your face, pumpkin- oh, that’s priceless! I’m just messing with you, dumdum!”

“I...oh.” Rhys rubbed the back of his neck, heat flushing up and into his face. “Right.”

“Loosen up! As if I’d forget about the only appointment I’ve been looking forward to today. Come here.” Handsome Jack beckoned Rhys closer to his desk. Rhys walked up the steps and stood before him. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt exposed like this. With Handsome Jack gazing up at him, standing in this room, he could barely think. “Aren’t you whores supposed to be all ‘laxed an shit?”

Yeah. That. Rhys fidgeted. “S-sorry, Handsome Jack, sir. I’m trying to be professional. Also...no offense, but this isn’t the most relaxing atmosphere.”

“Eh, fair enough.” Handsome Jack waved. “And lay off the apologies, will ya? I hear so many sorry’s throughout the day you’d think my name was Sorry Handsome Jack Sir, and that’s just sad. It’s literally lost all meaning for me.”

“Right, so- erm...right. I... it’s a disgrace how off my game I am right now, it’s just… I- I never thought I’d be hired by _Handsome Jack_ himself-”

“Ah ah ah, don’t get ahead of yourself, cupcake, you ain’t hired yet. But I love the eagerness.”

“R-right-” Rhys flushed again. Fuck. Bryant was right. He was going to botch the hell out of this, wasn’t he? He was already way off balance and flustered. And they’d barely started talking! No way Handsome Jack would think he could handle working for him. Jack didn’t want a weakling. He wanted someone who wasn’t afraid. And that wasn’t exactly what Rhys was showing him at the moment.

How the hell did one maintain themselves when their potential client was the Handsome Jack?

Rhys should make an effort to seduce Handsome Jack into hiring him. But where would he start? Handsome Jack would probably like him coming on strong… But what if he flirted wrong? Or accidentally overstepped his boundaries? Touched somewhere off limits? Could he even touch at all? Or would Jack be weird about that? It wouldn’t just be a simple misstep to apologize for. It could very well be the end of him.

Rhys knew he needed to stop overthinking this, but that was impossible. _I can’t do this- I shouldn’t have-_

Handsome Jack stood up, causing Rhys’s heart to skip so hard he lost his breath for a second.

_He’s...walking towards me!_

Handsome Jack maneuvered around the desk...looming. Rhys was dismayed. Jack was just a _bit_ taller than him. Rhys was used to being the taller one, and now he had even less reason for confidence. Their height difference might have been negligible with anyone else, but this was Handsome Jack. Maybe Rhys should break out some heels next time… Or would Handsome Jack hate that? Some guys really got hung up on height as badly as they did penis size.

Handsome Jack leaned against the desk next to Rhys, sighing. “So, babe, seriously, just call me Jack. Or Handsome works well too. I mean, ‘sir’ is cute and would sound nice between the sheets, but for now, I’d rather just hear my name on that pretty mouth of yours.” Jack tilted his head as if curious. Rhys just stood stock still. Jack. Just Jack? _Jack?_

Jack went on, “And I realize I’m just...so _badass_ and _flawless_ and _heroic_ , yaddy-yadda, and that raw aura is hard for someone who...is not me...to face, so how’s ‘bout a little icebreaker. Everyone loves breaking ice, eh? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

“I’m…” Rhys hesitated. Okay. He could manage that. “Well, obviously you know I’m from the Pleasure Palace. I also sometimes dance at Aries on the weekends-”

“No, no, I meant _you_ , not your job. Surely you’ve got some kinda life outside of sexing it up all the time! Which is, y’know, sweet an’ all, but still.”

Rhys needed to relax, focus on his breathing. “Um...right. Well, I like to hobby program. I love it. I even designed this little robot once. She’s not built, but I’d call her Gortys.”

Jack laughed once more. “You’re telling me you sell your body in a tech company ya could’ve been a programmer for?”

Okay, this was actually a question Rhys wasn’t lost on how to answer. “It was necessary,” Rhys said, feeling his confidence returning to him with this new foothold. “I needed the money. Besides, I couldn’t get in as a low-level desk jockey. I was...unqualified, especially when I had thousands of high-graduating programmers and interns from rich families to compete with from all over the galaxy. But the one thing I had over most of them were my damned good looks and a talent for this kind of work. I wanted to be at Hyperion, so here I am. One way or another.”

“Makes sense. Hyperion is _number one,"_ Jack said smugly.

“And also,” Rhys said, finding some of his confidence. “I’m _good_ at this. No, scratch that, I’m the _best_ at this. The Pleasure Palace couldn’t have offered you better,” he tacked on with an inward smile. Bryant would be so pissed if he knew what Rhys had just said.

“That’s what I like to hear! So you’re in it all for the _money_ , huh?” Jack’s tone had become insinuating. “Nothing _else_?”

Seriously. Jack was sounding like a kid at this point. “Yup,” Rhys said, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Not for the... _fun part_?” Jack wiggled his eyebrows.

Rhys resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I suppose...it can be fun, and I take pride in my work... but… It’s still work.” Rhys said with a wave of his arm. “And some of the people I work with make it more of chore than others. Some make it enjoyable. Some don't. Like with many jobs, I suppose…” he realized he was rambling unheeded so ended with, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about my work life?”

“Well, I do now. Oh, I just remembered the other thing I wanted to ask, pumpkin. What’s with the arm and eye? They...special? They’re quite sexy.”

Rhys had gotten his arm colored chrome black awhile ago to add to its allure. It was very easy on the eyes and had a pricey aesthetic. It enhanced the experience that Rhys knew he was. He was glad it’d caught Jack’s attention. It hadn't been cheap.

“That was one thing I needed money for,” Rhys admitted. Being open was the best way to proceed here. “I lost my arm and eye in an incident several years ago. I had prosthetics, but nothing this sexy. My work on Hyperion let me earn enough to get new ones. Ones that are really cool. People are into this shit, y’know?”

“Uh-huh. But do they _do anything sexy_?”

“Well, they’re designed for optimum bedroom comfort. The eye can glow different colors or even look robotic, if you’re into cyborg-y sex. The arm, hand, and fingers are soft and smooth enough to use in most kinds of play. There’s a vibrate, heating, and cooling mode for temperature play. This thing can get really hot or really cold. Oh, and I’m ambidextrous, if that’s relevant… That’s...about it.”

“Does the arm come off?”

Rhys felt wary. “...yes?”

Jack’s expression looked impish. “So...if I wanted to, I could design you a whole new arm and you’d wear it? I could make it look like a rocket ship or something? Give you claws? Or ooh, maybe a giant dong.”

Rhys fumbled for a minute, before realizing it must be a joke. “Haha, funny.”

“What if I’m serious.”

“Well, then, you’re never getting the information you’d need for my hardware. And no arm will work unless it’s compatible.”

“Ah...don’t worry, babe, I’d make it look nice.”

“Uh huh,” Rhys said in doubt.

"Not like I couldn't get the information anyway." Jack smirked. “Anyway. You sound fun, kiddo. Never had sex with a cyborg before.” Jack drew closer, backing Rhys against the desk. Rhys was more used to this type of routine, at least. He didn’t flinch even a little, just maintained Jack’s gaze. He supposed the icebreaking had helped him warm up a bit. His hands gripped the desk’s edge. Jack leered, gaze sliding down his neck and body then back up. “Besides, you’re just… really easy on the eyes, kiddo. For a dude. You really know how to dress yourself up like a Mercenary Day present, don’t ya?”

“I try,” Rhys said in a pouty, perfect voice. One he used a lot on people.

This was probably a good sign. He almost had Handsome Jack right where he wanted - drooling for him. It'd been surprisingly easy. Or maybe not that surprising, given how Jack had put quite a bit of effort into getting him here.

Jack wet his lips. “One last question, Rhysie. Do you... _want_ to work for me?” Jack leaned in so close, Rhys could feel his body heat. Rhys bit his lip at the electric feeling going through his body. Who knew he’d ever be this close to _Handsome Jack_ in his lifetime. Not just once, but twice, and possibly many more times in the near future. He shuddered at the possibilities.

Rhys inhaled. He inhaled Jack’s scent.

The Shirt.

Jack smelled like The Shirt. How? A coincidence…? Same cologne? Or maybe it was the gunpowder tang? Had to be. There was no possible way it… He would’ve remembered if he’d gotten fucked by Handsome Jack, he was sure. The very thought of it was absurd and made no sense.

Maybe his brain was playing tricks on him. Maybe it wanted that to be...

He brought himself back to the moment and whispered in Jack’s ear, “yes.”

Jack stiffened, something like wariness in his posture. He pulled back, frowning at Rhys. Uh oh. What had Rhys done wrong? As he began to panic, Jack said, “are you saying that because you do really _want_ to? Or is it because you think I’m gonna airlock you or somethin’ if you refuse? I know I don’t have the purest reputation, but I’m not a fuckin’ rapist!” he snarled the last word with hatred. “So if you’re scared or bored or don’t think you’ll like it, I want you to say no and walk out right now.” The intensity of Jack’s expression was breathtaking.

Oh. Rhys’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t expected this, and the surge that raced down to his groin shocked him. Consent kink had never really been a huge one for him. Guess it was now. God, why did he get the feeling that was going to become a familiar feeling with Handsome Jack? These bursts of sudden, intense arousal. He shivered again.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Well? I’m _waiting_ for a response, cupcake _._ ”

“Y-yeah,” Rhys said, trying to get a hold of himself. His voice was a bit more coarse than he wanted. But he couldn’t help it. Jack was doing things to him. “I-I do want to do this.” He’d spent too much time mulling this over last night and this morning to be uncertain anymore. Bryant could go fuck himself. All his worries about being too close to this could also go fuck themselves. Rhys was going to do what he wanted to.

“You aren’t afraid I’ll hurt ya?”

“No.”

“I mean, you did seem preeetty hesitant last night.”

Handsome Jack being concerned and double checking with the consent was beautifully amazing. Rhys felt like he was soaring. He had to concentrate. “Last night was just...unexpected. If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have walked in here today. I wouldn’t have agreed to this appointment. I’ve already thought about it. A lot. Nothing here has changed my mind. In fact….I daresay it’s only been more encouraged.”

Jack studied his face. Finally, his severity melted away. His lips quirked. “Well, that’s good to hear. Because I _really_ wanna hire you, princess.”

“Then do it,” Rhys breathed. An urge seized him. He reached up with his hand, toward the mask, wanted to feel it-

Jack gripped his wrist. “Anywhere... _but_ the face.” His voice was sharp.

Rhys swallowed, grounded. “Oh, sorry-”

“Ah ah, what’d I say about apologizing, pumpkin? The only true apology is doing right the next time, got it?”

Rhys nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Great." Jack released his wrist, so Rhys let it trail down Jack’s chest, pressing in a bit. Jack didn’t balk, but Rhys was still mindful. He was touching Handsome Jack. _Touching him_. Handsome Jack was _letting_ Rhys _touch him_. It wasn’t a whole lot. Rhys could tell there were several layers between him and skin, but it was something. He doubted there were many people who could place their hands on Jack at all and live. He let his hand fall back to his side, swallowing.

Jack spoke. “Give me a safe word, kiddo. I mean, I’ll admit I’m not too crazy when it comes to sex, but you should still have one.”

That was Rhys’s first hint so far as to what Jack wanted in bed. So, yeah, probably fairly vanilla. But the fact Jack knew what a safeword even was probably indicated he wasn’t completely vanilla.

Right. Safe word.

“Ice cream,” Rhys said with a small smile.

“Ice cream?” Jack echoed.

“Yep.”

“Not exactly what I expected, but...alrighty.”

“What about...you?”

“Me?”

“Your safeword?”

Jack chuckled. “Oh. Just trust me, pumpkin, I don’t need one ‘cause you’ll know really fast if I don’t like something.”

Rhys wanted to frown, but he wasn’t going to argue. It probably wouldn’t be hard for Jack to convey displeasure or for Rhys to understand it. “Right… Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Yep.” Jack smirked. “Great. Glad we got that all worked out, ‘cause I’m gonna hire you! Congratulations, tiger! Your about to become the richest whore on the station!”

Rhys might’ve responded if his breath hadn’t left him. Hired. He was fucking hired! He was officially going to do this!

Jack pulled away, leaving him a little unsteady. “You’ll start next Monday once all the legal bullshit goes through. I’m sending the file down. Follow all the instructions or you won’t officially have the job.”

Rhys’s gaze followed Jack back to his desk. “Uh, of course. And thank you...Jack!" He wasn't sure how he felt using that by itself yet, but... "Thank you so much for this opportunity! Uh, if you don’t mind, before I go, can I- I...ask you something?” It was nagging at him, this little thought-

Jack folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. “What?”

“Have you ever been to Aries, the club?” Rhys held his breath.

“Hmm... Not that I recall. I don’t go out drinking a lot. Too much effort after working all day. I’m more of a drink and fuck at home after work sorta guy. More efficient on time and energy. Now get outta my office because every second you’re here is another second of work I don’t get done ‘cause you’re distracting as hell. Super tempted to just...slide ya twenty K for a blow job right here, right now.”

Rhys snorted. “Wow. _Sexy_... But...I’d do it," he admitted. He tilted his head and gazed at Jack through his eyelashes, a little too hopeful he noted.

Jack hesitated. For a moment, he looked like he might say yes, and Rhys’s anticipation mounted. But Jack only sighed and shook his head. “Nah, no can do, babe, I got...this thing here I need to deal with. Unfortunately.” He gestured at his computer.

“Alright. Your choice.” Rhys was more disappointed than he had a right to be, but he reminded himself it wouldn’t be too much longer. “I’ll see you next monday, sir- Jack.”

“Yup. Now scram.”

Rhys did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know. Next chapter will get into the smuts :P


	5. Under the Desk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys is about to experience his first day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *standing solemnly before my computer, whispering* _the smuts are coming_

With a bound, Rhys slipped into his room, changing from his outfit into something more modest - a simple blue shirt, jeans, a gray vest. “Oooh my god,” he said to no one, heart pounding, euphoria racing through his body. He scrubbed his face free of makeup with a towelette, vibrating. “Oh god.” He folded his clothing on his bed, thoughts strung far from his brain. “I can’t believe this!” He yelled in glee. He was going to burst.

Yvette poked her head in, an annoyed expression on her face. “What’s wrong with you? Are you having a stroke in here?” Nosy as ever.

Rhys turned to her. “You’ll never believe what happened to me!”

“What. Finally got that autograph from Handsome Jack?” She said in sarcasm, rolling her eyes.

Rhys clasped his hands together. “Oh it’s better than that.”

“For _you_ ? That’s hard to believe. And the fact you didn’t jibe back really says a lot about what’s up. It must be pretty damn good. _Wait_.” She gasped. “You didn't get _married_ without _telling_ me, did you?”

“Uh...no, why would I do that-? Does it seem-?” Rhys shook his head. She folded her arms, brow raised. “Anyway,” Rhys continued, “...that VP I was telling you about?”

“Oh right. Your _‘ticket to the top’_.” She made air quotes.

“Yeah, well, he turned out to be a bust, but it all worked out because I got hired by someone _better_!”

“What, a slightly more important VP?”

“Better, Yvette.” He walked up to her, clasping her arms with barely restrained glee. “ _Better_.”

“ _Better?_ Wait, you can’t mean-” She said in a tone ladened with disbelief. “You mean… _an exec_?”

“Not just _an_ exec- _the_ exec. I’m literally at the very top now, Yvette! The top!”

“And yet, you remain a bottom,” she couldn’t seem to resist a joke. Rhys rolled his eyes, and her face fell into disbelief. “Sooo, just to be clear… You _are_ talking about Handsome Jack?”

“Yesss,” he said, clasping his own face. The reality of it striking him all over again. “Oh my god, _yes_.” He tugged his own hair. He almost still couldn’t believe it.

Yvette shoved him lightly. “Get out! I’m not falling for it, Rhys.”

“No, I’m serious!”

“Umm...holy shit! Even if I believed it, why in the name of Helios would Jack choose _you_.”

“Okay, ouch, Vette. Jeeze."

“Ugh you know what I meant. You don’t seem like his first choice. Let’s see here. Firstly, you’re a guy. Secondly, you’re like...barely known by anyone even at the Pleasure Palace. And thirdly, since when does _Handsome Jack_ hire official escorts?”

“Well...let’s go sit and I’ll tell you how it happened.”

Rhys...decided to explain everything. Well, perhaps not _everything_. Still, he told her about the untimely end of his former traitor of a client. He left out Jack’s threats, but he did explain how he had proven himself loyal to Hyperion, how he had caught Jack’s eye. He explained how Jack had admitted to not wanting someone afraid of him. He told her about Bryant being a dick because he wanted her supportive comebacks against him, then told her that he’d had an interview with the king himself. He didn’t go into details on it for privacy reasons.

When he finished, She sat there for several moments, seeming to process it. “...Damn, Rhys. That’s one hell of a draw of the deck you got. Alright.” She sucked in a breath. Her face was all business. “Serious time. You really _want_ to work for that man?”

Rhys fiddled with his hands. “I feel like you think I _shouldn’t_ reply with a yes?”

“I know he’s the richest man on this station, but he’s also a _killer_. I don’t care how hot he is. I thought you stuck to the safer clients! This couldn’t be further from safe!”

“Well…” Rhys said. “I… After the other night, I realized none of my clients are truly safe, especially that far up the corporate ladder. I chose Holloway, and I still...had a close encounter with danger. And...I don’t think Jack is...ridiculously dangerous or anything. I can't go into the details but...I sort of...trust him?" Part of him wanted to tell her how adamant on consent Jack had been. He still couldn’t get over it. He wanted to tell her that Jack had _promised_ him safety.

Her brows raised. "That sounds very convincing."

“I know this may come as a shock, but I did a lot of thinking on this.”

"Yeah, that is shocking."

He chewed his lip. “I believe- no scratch that, I _know_ I can do it. And since I _can_ , I can’t afford to pass this up… Jack could set me up for _life_!”

“You want a sugar daddy then?” She asked dryly.

“I-” Rhys’s faced heated. “That’s not what I _meant_ !” He exhaled hard at her laugh. “I meant that if I could do this long enough. I’d have enough money to...well there’s a _lot_ I could do. Lets say I became his regular for….a couple years or so - though I’m trying not to be too unrealistic here, who knows how long it’ll last - but.... I could retire. I’d be done. Just me and my projects after that. No more sex work. I’d have all the time in the world for whatever I wanted. No more stress. Just me and my money. This is... like winning the lottery or something!”

“A very dangerous lottery.”

“Look...Jack only kills people who cost his company- Like Holloway-”

“Or those who annoy him-”

“That, but I can’t hurt his company, and he doesn’t seem to think I’m annoying, so.” He shrugged.

“Alright, Rhys… I would still be careful if I were you. I’d advise running at the first sign of imminent stabbing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got this.”

She smirked suddenly. “Also, I wouldn’t mind if you felt like buying me lunch every now and again with all that fancy money. Since you’re obviously going to be so well off soon. We could hit that fancy diner up in Sector A every _week_ if we wanted.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, _Yvette_!”

“Just saying.”

* * *

Rhys’s shift started Monday afternoon.

Jack had sent him the file as promised. In it were directions and rules Rhys was expected to follow. Rule one, get tested. Rhys regularly did, but Handsome Jack wanted it done _again_ before he started. Rule two, Rhys wouldn’t question anything Jack wanted or did unless it crossed his own boundaries and limitations. And rule three, Rhys was forbidden from seeing other clients for the duration of his time working for Jack. He was also not allowed to work at Aries anymore.

It made him a little itchy. He didn't like not having something to fall back on if...worse came to worse.

It wouldn't, he told himself.

Jack planned to pay him a _lot_ of money and then some to make up the difference. Otherwise, Rhys wouldn’t even remotely be okay with that. Rhys just needed Jack to keep him around for awhile. Long enough to make him a rich...richer man. He would make sure of it. He would impress Jack, over and over again, keep his interest, find all the ways he could to make Jack have the best orgasms of his life. He really couldn’t wait to see what Jack’s “O face” looked like.

The prospect probably shouldn’t have excited him as much as it did.

Rhys had done some math. In less than five years, he could retire on what Jack was paying him. It made his head spin. All that envy he’d felt before...and here he was, at the top. He knew other escorts would hate him as much as Bryant did for this. And he was glad of it. He would give them all the middle finger. He was better than any of them.

Well, he reflected, it was unlikely he could keep Jack regularly interested for _five_ years. But this was a healthy start on his savings. The longest he’d ever kept one client’s interest was three years. Then, they’d gotten a relationship and decided having a paid prostitute wasn’t very faithful.

Could Rhys keep Jack for three years? What would that even be like? A veteran sexer of Handsome Jack. He had to laugh at the thought. It would make him very sought after anyway...possibly by other execs.

Rhys pulled himself from his daydreaming.

There was a fourth rule, one Rhys had felt weird after reading. Rule four, no personal talk between him and Jack, no physical interactions beyond those of a sexual nature, and no wasting time on non-work related things. Rhys wasn’t going to be paid to “chatter”. Weird, considering how much of it Jack seemed capable of at any given moment.

Fine. That was fine. Rhys didn’t bring personal into it anyway. And what kind of physical interactions did Jack foresee happening beyond sexual ones? Rhys was supposed to make him cum. Just as Jack said, this wasn’t a fling. It was a job. There were rules, and there wouldn’t be any playing around. Why would Jack feel the need to clarify otherwise? More internalized homophobia? Was this Jack’s way of doubly assuring Rhys he wasn’t gay?

Jack hadn’t said much when Rhys asked what he wanted him to wear. Just-

_~idk something sexy. surprise me. this is ur department, rite?_ Jack had refused to elaborate.

Like Rhys was supposed to guess what Jack considered sexy without any context. For all he knew, Jack wanted him to wear nothing at all. Or just lingerie. Or maybe something really ridiculous, like a sexy banana suit (yes, that’d happened once. No, he didn’t want to recall the details. And no, he didn’t regret it, exactly. Money was money and those had been desperate times). 

It was best not to overthink this. How picky could one egomaniacal, narcissistic, murdery king of Hyperion be?

Rhys dressed in one of his more playful outfits. A tight, studded jacket. It was black leather, branded with a Hyperion H and accented with yellow- Jack’s favorite colors. The right sleeve was cut off to display his beautiful chrome arm. There were no clasps, so his chest and stomach were showing. And of course, it wasn’t a true sex outfit without his tightest, lowest-cut pants and no underwear on beneath. His fuzzy happy trail and the top of his ass were proudly showing.

He put on heeled, dark rakk-leather boots (would they make him taller than Jack? That was the hope). He also donned an overcoat so that his outfit was hidden at first. Not only did the coat make him appropriate until he got to the office, but it would allow him to hit Jack with what was underneath.

Rhys didn’t expect too much from the first appointment, but he hoped Jack would be enthusiastic in exploring his options. Maybe he would jump right in and let Rhys know what it felt like to have that nice, thick cock inside of him… He could spread himself invitingly on that huge desk. He could make a show of fingering himself open for it-

He shook his head. He had to stop his mental train before he gave himself a boner. He was getting ahead of himself.

But he intended to enjoy his work.

Makeup? Rhys deliberated. He probably should, just to make sure his features were smooth… But he also didn’t want to make a mess in a way Jack wouldn’t expect. He’d use just a _little_ , like before, and wait on anything more until he learned what Jack liked.

Yvette was gone to her job in Requisitions so he had no one around to wish him luck. But it was just as well. He didn’t need luck. All he needed was his skill. Rhys left for Jack’s office thirty minutes early, nervousness and excitement warring in his chest. He couldn’t afford to be late, and showing up early would make a good impression anyway. It was dangerous to let on just how eager he truly was for this job, but he knew Jack would appreciate it all the same. And since this was work, Jack would just assume it was him giving it his best. Jack wouldn’t know about Rhys’s desire, his wants, his fantasies.

All Rhys needed to do was impress him.

Standing in the lavish elevator on it’s way to the top, he allowed himself to plan ahead. Whatever happened would probably involve a lot of improvising, which Rhys was used to. He had some ideas, though. He should probably start underneath of that big desk. It was old school, but effective. Clients loved it.

He left the elevator and stepped into the office for a second time. It was still hard to believe this was going to be a regular thing in his life. Walking into Jack’s office. Performing sex acts _on_ Jack _in_ his office…

If he wasn't careful his brain was going to melt.

Jack sat at his desk. Rhys deposited his bag of personal items in a covered nook by the door. It had a latch with a lock code that Jack had given him to keep them safe. Afterward, Rhys crossed the office, clearing his throat upon reaching the desk.

“Heya, kiddo,” Jack said without looking up, typing. He made a show of glancing at his watch. “You’re pretty early, aintcha?” He went back to his typing, not even sparing Rhys a glance.

“Better early than on time, I say.”

“Never heard of fashionably late?”

Rhys hummed a bit, leaning on the desk, weight on his arms. “That only works for VIPs. _Some_ of us have to take our jobs seriously.”

“Hopefully not _too_ seriously.” Jack still hadn’t looked up.

Rhys asked in a sultry tone, “whatcha _workin’_ on?”

Jack’s brow knitted. His typing slowed. “Uh, a little project called _none of your business?_ ”

“Fair enough,” Rhys said, put off by Jack’s underwhelming response to his presence. He’d gotten all fancied up for _this_ reception? Or was Jack really _this much_ business? He’d thought for sure Jack would be _easily_ distracted with the promise of sex. But here he was… And he hadn’t even gotten Jack to _look up._

His confidence shrank, and he swallowed hard. “Why’d you want me in before your shift ended if you aren’t planning to take advantage of my presence?” Rhys tried not to sound like he was complaining. “There’s a perfectly suitable desk here for some fun....” Rhys brushed it with his fingertips, amused when Jack glanced at his hand before returning his attention to his work.

Jack replied, “you were the one who showed up early. Don’t worry so much, buttercup, I’ll get to you as soon as I can. This is important.”

Maybe Jack _wanted_ Rhys to make a larger effort to get his attention. This was day one and Jack was CEO, after all. He probably couldn’t act _too_ interested in Rhys, the prostitute. Besides, Jack was probably testing him. The more Rhys thought about it, the more his confidence grew. He sidled around the desk.

“Hey,” Jack said, clicking viciously, probably closing out of the tab. He turned to Rhys for the first time. Rhys almost stepped back. He’d forgotten how intimidating eye contact with Handsome Jack was. “Are we gonna have a frickin problem here?”

Rhys forced himself to keep going, to stay on his hunch. “I’m not looking at that boring thing, I swear.” Rhys slid into Jack’s space, daring to break the eye contact. He eyed Jack’s lips. He leaned in, closer to Jack’s ear, murmuring, “I’m looking at something _infinitely better_ right now.”

“What are you _wearing_ , princess?” Jack hissed. “This your idea of sexy? This drab coat?”

Oh. Right.

Rhys pulled back, grinning. He ripped off the overcoat and tossed it on the floor, displaying himself for Jack.

Jack looked him up and down. “Oh, Rhysie, you’re a _little shit_.” Jack stood, placing one hand on Rhys’s neck, hard enough to convey something, but not enough to hurt or cause discomfort. Rhys knew Jack had to be quite practiced here to apply just the right amount of pressure. It couldn’t be coincidence with how deliberate the action felt. Just like last time, except with less anger.

It was strange, how the light press made the fear leave Rhys. It probably, _really_ shouldn’t have. But it did.

“You like it,” Rhys whispered, pressing one leg between Jack’s, looking deep into his mismatched eyes. “Don’t you?” That was the right thing to say, apparently. Jack’s breathing was interrupted, pupils dilating. Rhys’s hands grasped Jack’s lapels, trembling, not out of fear, but from raw excitement. He leaned back, putting some weight on Jack’s coat, urging him closer.

Oh yeah. He could tell he had him now.

“So...what would you really rather be doing right now, _handsome_?” Rhys purred the nickname with a deep voice, tugging Jack away from his computer. “I could get under this ole desk and suck your dick off. You can just keep right on working like nothing’s. Even. Happeni-”

Jack pushed him away, causing Rhys to yelp. Rhys regained his balance, heart thudding, eyes raising to Jack. Had he miscalculated? He was about to apologize, but Jack...seemed dazed, his voice loose. “I’m friggin serious, kitten,” he said. He wasn’t as commanding now. “I wasn’t kidding when I said this is- is important. I have to do this. Go...go wait by the fountain, alright? Get cozy. I _will_ get to you.” It definitely sounded like a promise.

Rhys stuck out his lip in an obvious pout, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Inwardly, he was quite proud of himself for the effect he’d had on Jack.

Jack just rolled his eyes, sitting back down. “Surely you’ve got Echo Net to entertain yourself for a bit.”

“Fiiine,” Rhys exclaimed. “But the Echo Net doesn’t have a dick for me break off.”

“What-?”

He left Jack alone and hopefully off balance, throwing himself onto the couch. Next time, he wouldn’t show up early. Jack obviously wasn’t planning to make good use of his efforts.

* * *

Jack’s heart thudded in his ears. He tried to refocus on the documents on the screen before him. Rhys came on pretty hard. And a part of him _really_ liked that. But he was having sudden misgivings. Should he really be doing this with a _dude_ ? A male whore? One he'd more or less snatched off the street? He didn’t like being the inexperienced one, and in the area of guy on guy action, he was definitely that in this scenario. ...Maybe in college he might’ve gotten drunk and messed around once or twice, but that was a _long_ time ago. He wasn’t even really sure if he had or not. Memory was a fickle thing.

Having Rhys blow him - as the other seemed so eager to do - would be easy enough. Or they could grind. How hard could it be? He’d also heard about anal, but he wasn’t sure that was something he would like too much, putting his dick in a butthole. Or would he? It had to be fun if other people did it, right?

He frowned.

Jack could find ways to make it work. He was Handsome Goddamned Jack for crying out loud. He didn’t have misgivings. Misgivings were for pathetic people. He’d made this decision because he'd wanted to, and god dammit, nothing would stop him from enjoying it.

Jack was about fifteen minutes into the project when he glanced up and spotted his disgruntled new-hire resting on the couch, a screen projected from the palm of his robot hand. Well that was fancy. It really was a nice arm.

He raised his voice enough to be heard. “Rhysie.”

“Hmm?”

“Get over here.”

Rhys sat up and came over, smirking. “Knew you couldn’t resist me for long.”

Jack hesitated a bit. “I still need to work, but you’re distracting me. What would _you_ suggest?”

Rhys grinned that strangely chilling grin of his. He looked like he had the whole world was at his fingertips and knew it. Arrogance. Guess Jack couldn’t blame him too much for getting a big head over this whole thing. “Well, maybe I should be _out of sight_ then. Like...under the desk? My earlier idea?” He lowered his head to give Jack those horrible, dark, devil eyes. The guy looked like he might start drooling. Did this idiot have an obsession with being on the floor or what?

Still… Those lips wouldn’t be half bad stretched around him. Jack’s cock twitched with interest.

Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected. Almost getting it up just from Rhys’s expression alone. But he still hesitated. Rhys leaned over his desk. His chrome fingertips reached out and brushed Jack’s jaw. Jack gripped his wrist, pushing it back, glaring. Did Rhys completely ignore his earlier warning or was he _trying_ to piss him off? “Don’t even-” Jack took a deep breath. “Just get on the floor, dumdum, since you’re so married to that idea.” He scooted his chair back. “Hope you like dust bunnies. The cleaning bots haven’t been by in awhile. Probably because I shot the last one for being _annoying_.”

Rhys seemed not to catch the threat. “I don’t have allergies.”

In spite of Rhys’s long legs, he easily got on all fours and crawled into the space beneath Jack’s desk without complaint, like a long-legged crab sliding into a too-small hiding hole. Jack tried not to stare at his ass. Though he was sure Rhys was sticking it up as far as he could. Those dumbass pants were about to slide down if he stretched any further. How did a dude have such a cute ass? It wasn’t even that round, but it seemed like it’d be a good fit for his hands. Jack was seized with the desire to grab it, but he refrained, if only so as not to make the idiot more cocky than he already was.

Jack scooted forward until he felt one of Rhys’s hands land on his thigh. He tried to refocus on his work with the pressure against his thigh. He couldn’t stop thinking about Rhys under there, though. What Rhys was going to do...

Rhys’s other hand found his crotch. Jack bit his lip, scooting back again to look at Rhys. “Rhysie…” he said.

Rhys’s brows were raised. He was poised on his knees under the desk, hands out to show how empty they were of...Jack. _Where are you going?_ His eyes asked.

“Should we uh...get you a cushion or something?” Jack stalled. For what...he wasn’t sure.

Rhys chuckled. “Aww. That’s sweet of you to think of, handsome, but I’ll be good for awhile. Get back here and let me _blow you away_.”

Jack did so. He squinted at his monitor. _Focus, Jack._ It wasn't like this sort of thing was _completely_ new to him. Although 'under the desk' wasn't something he remembered doing or having had done to him, he'd still gotten up to some weird stuff before with his ex. Rhys’s hand rubbed his cock through his pants. Jack chewed on the inside of his cheek. Jack felt his belt being undone. He shifted his chair back again, meeting Rhys’s curious eyes.

“Just can’t take your eyes off me, huh?” Rhys said in a teasing tone. “That’s okay. I understand. I _am_ a solid ten.” Rhys moved forward, blocking Jack from scooting back in and getting back to the computer, positioning himself over Jack’s groin, leaning his torso against Jack’s legs. “So, better idea. We can do it just like this, so you can _watch_. I promise I’ll be fast. A five minute break won’t kill ya. Unless you want it longer. I can go slow too. I have to be a better sight than that ole thing.”

“Listen, uh, Rhys-”

“Mmm?”

Jack got his thoughts together so he could talk. He didn’t really like that he felt uncertain here. It was probably because he needed to get this project done before he messed around, his subconscious making him feel uncomfortable taking a few minutes off. He had a work ethic for frig's sake. “Okay, you’re uh...really pretty on your knees, babe, don’t get me wrong. But...maybe this isn’t the best time for this.”

“And why not?” Rhys batted his lashes, licking his lips. He had guns, that was for sure. For a prostitute. More than Jack would’ve expected, anyway. It was like a completely different person had taken over Rhys since their first meeting and interview. And. It...was _working_ for him. But it was also hard to fully process.

Jack sighed, lips pressed hard together. He really shouldn’t be letting Rhys do this. He should be in charge here, and he should exert that. He should _order_ Rhys to suck his dick, not have the guy _demand_ it.

Which was hotter than it should’ve been.

Jack went with, “you’re still distracting me.”

“ _Five minutes_ , remember?”

“I don’t think my work brain wants to shut down even that long, cupcake. It’s not exactly saying ‘let’s have an orgasm’ right now.”

“ _Alright_ ,” Rhys said, a strange look coming over his face. He looked like he _knew_ something Jack didn’t. Jack didn’t care for that. “I think I get it. I need you to do something for me.”

“What? What the hell-?”

“Lean your head back.”

Jack glared. “Why?”

“Go on, do it.”

“You can’t be serious, tryna tell me what to do like this-”

“Take a deep breath, count to three, let it out.”

“What are you, a doctor or somethin’?”

“ _Jack_ ,” Rhys said, voice clipped. “Do it. I know you can’t take your eyes off me, but you’re ruining this. Focus.”

A tone like _that_ from someone he didn’t know well should’ve pissed him off, but he found himself leaning his head back, not enough to lose sight of Rhys but enough to cushion his neck. He should grab this ballsy idiot by the throat and shake some sense into him already-

And yet-

He was Handsome Jack, and he didn’t just _let_ people tell him what to do.

And _yet_....

That wasn’t _always totally one hundred percent_ true.

“Good...good,” Rhys said, rubbing Jack’s thigh with soothing circles. It felt really good. Rhys’s warm chrome fingers were full of strength, and they dug into the muscle in just the right way. “ _Breathe…_ Just like _that,_ ” Rhys said in a praising tone, one that was starting to go to Jack’s dick. Rhys’s other hand slipped under his many layers, brushing over his abdomen, skin cool, but not in a bad way. Rhys's expression lit up with delight. He traced Jack’s skin, the touch light, almost tickling.

“You’re doing so well for me. Good...good boy.”

Jack tensed. He was about to knee _someone_ in the sternum for _that._ "Kiddo-"

Rhys pulled his hand back from Jack’s stomach. “It’s okay. _Relax…_ Breathe, Jack. Keep breathing. Close your eyes for me.”

“Nu uh,” Jack muttered, sitting forward. Rhys’s lips tilted down. That was...kind of cute, but Jack ignored it. “No way. This ain’t working. I thought you were a prostitute, not... _this_. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but this doesn’t seem like sex to me. I ain’t closing my eyes, sweetcheeks. This...whatever you’re doing is over, kay? No touching unless it’s sex, remember? Get up.”

Annoyance flickered through Rhys’s gaze. Maybe Jack should’ve been more wary with this one. He was starting to feel it. Rhys was probably not someone he should be letting near his dick. Who knew what ulterior motives this little shit might have. 

Rhys went on before he could say another word, “Jack, I’m trying to _help_ . We at the Pleasure Palace are sincere in our efforts to bring our clients utmost satisfaction.” His tone was brisk, matter-of-fact. “That’s what this is for. You’re really tense. Like really _really_ tense. I’m trying to help you relax. I mean, at this rate, you should’ve hired a professional massage therapist instead, but here we are.” His voice warmed. “Relax, _Handsome_.” God that sounded so _good_ in Rhys’s voice. “It’ll make this _so much better_. You’re gonna have a hella time coming if you’re stiff as a log.”

He had to admit that Rhys wasn’t wrong. Intimacy with someone, especially a dude, one that he didn’t know very well, was making it hard to just let this happen. But Jack did feel less wary after Rhys’s explanation. Slightly. He couldn’t explain it. He just wanted to trust Rhys.

That...that was a dangerous thought.

Rhys’s other hand went down and pulled up his pant leg. He slid his hand underneath and massaged his calf. He was pretty good at it. “Please? For me? Handsome Jack... Sir...”

“Were you a massage therapist at some point?” Jack asked. He meant it as a snark, but Rhys just shook his head.

“Uh, uh, no personal talk,” he tutted.

Jack grimaced. Like hell was the little shit turning the tables here. “That’s _my_ rule. So I can break it if I want.”

“Wow. Must be nice.” Rhys’s brows raised.

"Your free to walk out, princess, if you don't like it."

“Fine. I may have taken a class at one time, long time ago.”

“Thought you couldn’t afford school.”

“Fancy tech school is what I couldn’t afford.”

Jack snorted but let his weight settle back into the soft chair. “‘Kay, too personal. No more rule breaking.”

“If you say so.”

A few moments passed.

“That’s it. Keep breathing.” Rhys shifted his position, angling his hand to target another spot. His fingers were still so nice against Jack’s skin. “I’m guessing this is your first time with a man - you don’t have to answer, of course.” God, Rhys really was quite an arrogant little shit to just _say_ that, especially _now_. Jack should almost definitely put a stop to that. Honestly, though? He sort of loved it. Confidence in sex was hot, possibly the hottest thing a person could be. Jack never really did like the blushing virgin type. Cute in a way, he supposed, but also way too hard to please, didn’t know what they liked, and expected you to do all the work for them. So yeah, Jack preferred more experienced partners.

So even if Rhys didn’t get it right every time, he couldn’t bring himself to stop him.

Rhys talked again, “here’s the thing, Sir. Pleasure isn’t all about gender. It’s mostly about giving someone what they _want_ , what they _need_. In reality, there are many ways to pleasure someone. So as long as you’re open to trying it, there’s so many ways I can make you feel incredible, even as a man.”

Jack closed his eyes. It was a bit easier to relax not seeing Rhys.

Rhys’s hand moved out from under Jack’s clothes.

Rhys unzipped his pants, pulling them down a ways. Jack felt airflow across his sensitive skin. “And that’s what I’m going to do, Jack. I’m going to give you what you _need_.” A thrill ran through Jack, so much different than the tension from before. He wanted more.

Rhys grabbed his dick with his human hand. His metal one rubbed Jack’s thigh again, warm and sturdy. Jack could feel how hard he was in the guy’s grasp. It was almost surprising. He didn’t usually get so hard so fast. This was all so different than any other sex he’d had. It was usually a lot more violent and had way less of an intro, but he was starting to see the appeal here.

Rhys’s fingers squeezed. “Is this alright?” He heard Rhys ask. Just a bit of uncertainty was starting to trickle into his voice.

Jack was annoyed by that. Hadn’t he told Rhys he’d let him know if it _wasn’t_ alright? Did the idiot forget? “Shut up an’ hurry up. I don’t got all day, princess.” His voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

Rhys chuckled, voice low with desire. “Your cock is really hot, sir.” Warmth pooled in Jack’s stomach. Rhys tugged, and Jack sucked in a breath. “I’m gonna suck you so hard you see stars.” Rhys went down on him.

Mercilessly.

Jack clenched his armrests. “ _Fuck_.”

Rhys sucked, pulled, let up for a heartbeat and went down again. The entire time, his tongue did absolutely wonderful things against Jack’s cock, flicking, swirling, tracing his slit. Jack’s breathing picked up against his will, and he felt his toes curling in his shoes. “Rhys… Rhysie...that mouth is friggin’ filthy, cupcake-”

Rhys went faster and sank lower as if encouraged by Jack’s voice. Jack felt him swallow him whole. It was tight and hot and wet. Jack’s hips bucked up, forcing him deeper into Rhys’s soft throat. Rhys made a noise and pulled off, letting Jack’s dick fall. He cleared his throat loudly, maybe even pointedly.

“...Didn’t mean to do that,” Jack said in lieu of an apology. He opened his eyes and what a _sight_ Rhys was to behold, poised between his legs, mouth and eyes wet, cheeks flushed. Okay, even Jack had to admit… This male whore looked good like this. Yeah, Jack could get used this look on him. Doing it with a guy like this wasn’t so bad.

“Well, guess _someone’s_ losing some control of himself.” Rhys’s dick-sucking voice was way too hoarse for that devilish, smug grin he gave Jack. Or maybe the grin was too smug for...fuck it didn’t matter. Rhys winked and went back down on Jack.

Jack didn’t think the sight of what was going on would do so much to him. He moaned against his will. Couldn’t stop the way it spilled out, probably giving the kid way too much of an ego boost. Oh well. Jack knew he was not going to last long at how shameless the little whore looked doing this to him. It just looked...so _effortless_ for Rhys and that was goddamned hot.

“Rhysie-” Jack gasped, resisting the urge to tangle his hand into Rhys’s hair. “Nng, I’m- I’m gonna-”

Rhys swallowed, deep-throating him, never slowing or hesitating. Rhys hummed around his cock...and looked up at Jack through his lashes. He looked like an absolute demon. Jack came with a louder moan than he would’ve liked, spilling into Rhys’s mouth and throat.

Rhys pulled off when he was finished, swallowing it all and smiling up at Jack lazily. “Well, we definitely went over five minutes, but _I’d_ say you needed this distraction.” He tucked Jack back into his pants - gently enough - even zipping them up for him.

“Jesus Christ,” Jack muttered. No one had ever sucked him _quite_ like that before. Rhys was really good. So good. “Nice work, kiddo...” he managed, trying to come back to himself. He was almost ready to lean the chair back and grab a nap, but he couldn’t. Still had work to do.

“Yeah.” Rhys’s head tilted, a smile ghosting his lips. “You’re...noisier than I expected.”

“Shut up,” Jack warned, but his voice wasn’t sharp enough for his threat.

“Oh, but it was _good_. Sir. Nothing like a bit of noise to know I’m doing a good job.”

“I said pipe down, pumpkin… Why don’tcha...go take a break or somethin’. Come back in an hour or so. I do still need to finish this. Then you can...entertain me some more.”

Rhys smiled. “Of course.” He finally picked himself up from the floor, and Jack noted there was no sign of a bulge in Rhys’s tight pants. So...had Rhys not enjoyed that? Was that pink-faced, open, wet mouthed expression all a show? If the guy was that good at faking… He should probably be more careful with Rhys… He watched Rhys’s retreating ass for a moment.

But didn’t Rhys enjoy doing this job?

He didn’t care, Jack realized. Rhys’s pleasure didn’t factor here. Rhys was the one getting paid for sexual favors, not the other way around. If Rhys had gotten anything out of this, it would probably have just be an unnecessary bonus, and-

And Jack had to get back to work.

Damn it, this is exactly why he’d wanted to wait. Focusing was going to be a pain in the ass after this.


	6. Famous

Rhys was practically buzzing as he took his break. He knew Jack had enjoyed that blow job very much. Jack’s reactions were telling enough. Rhys had been surprised when he realized how nervous Jack really was at letting anything sexual pass between them. Maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Uncertain. Off balance. Hesitant. Seeing that vulnerability had just given Rhys all the confidence he’d needed to do so well. He was used to working with a client that didn’t fully know what they wanted from him.

He also knew Jack would want more - he’d done good. So good that he was proud of himself. Well, nobody else was going to be. Bryant could shove it. And now that he knew what he was working with, he knew exactly how to keep giving Jack those good experiences. He already knew what parts of the blowing Jack had liked best. It wouldn’t be long before he figured the rest of the king’s desires out.

Rhys wrapped himself in his long coat and went to the nearest cafe to get a tea.

He ordered and gave the barista his name. She stared at him. “Hey are you... _the_ Rhys? You have the cybernetics and, well...”

“I think it is!” Said a short guy standing next to him at the counter. Rhys looked over. He had a goatee and glasses and was...very _nerdy_ looking. “Oh my god," he went on, "I get to meet _the_ Rhys- I’m Vaughn by the way!” He practically bounced. “I...can I get a selfie with you? I can’t wait to tell everyone I _met_ you! Teach them for calling me a dweeb!”

“What?” Rhys asked, glancing between them. “What _about_ me?” His brain was still processing the entire situation.

“Dude,” the guy... _Vaughn_ exclaimed, brandishing a croissant, “haven’t you, like, watched the news or read a mag or something. Your name is _everywhere_!”

“It is?” Rhys blinked. “What for?”

“Because of...Handsome Jack. Him hiring you! It’s pretty well-known at this point.”

“Yep,” the lady agreed.

Rhys felt himself reddening. Was this true? It had to be for them to know him almost on sight. And now a lot of people were staring now. God, he’d been _very_ distracted today. “I...honestly don’t pay that much attention,” he mumbled, face burning. He wasn’t good in situations he hadn’t prepared for. “I didn’t realize it was so...public.”

“Everything is public in the big H in the sky,” someone said on the other side of Rhys as he accepted his tea. “At least where Handsome Jack is concerned. How could even _you_ not know that?” Rhys turned to the voice, frowning. Wow, too close. He stepped back.

“Um, _excuse me_ , who are you?”

A sneer. “The name’s Vasquez… Hugo Vasquez. Gotta say, you’re even less inspiring in real life. How does someone like you get a job like yours, huh?” Vasquez stared down his nose at Rhys. Or as best he could with Rhys’s height. _Vasquez_ was...oily. Rhys decided. His black hair and thick beard had a disturbing sheen, and his smile made Rhys want to crawl out of his own skin. Then, Rhys noticed the fancy suit. This guy could be a VP with how nice it was. Rhys envied it for just a second before he remembered that he was literally working for Jack himself. Even if that meant wearing a _different_ kind of suit.

He didn’t have to take shit from this guy. He wasn’t his boss.

“By being this sexy. I guess you wouldn't know, would you? Yikes, take a shower or something!” Rhys shot back. People gasped. He stalked away, chin up and glaring. _He_ almost needed a shower after sharing space with someone like that. Ugh. Gross. He shook himself and tried to forget the encounter.

Vaughn followed. “Hey! Hey, dude! Sorry about that guy, he’s the worst. Literally nobody likes him. God, that was an amazing burn though.” 

Rhys blinked at Vaughn. “Uh, thanks? No offense but I’ve gotta go-”

“Yeah, yeah, I just, real quick- would you want to hang out sometime? Not...that I'm trying to proposition you or anything, haha, I don’t even swing that way if you know what I mean. Not that I have anything against it. Um, but, I just-" Vaughn kept rambling, "anyway, dude, you’re so cool! That robo arm is the bomb! And anyone who can stick up to Vasquez is like, doubly cool in my book. Do you like video games?” 

Rhys took a moment to catch up with what Vaughn was saying. The guy seemed harmless enough. And Rhys...honestly didn’t have a lot of friends. Making friends on Helios wasn't easy. It was even harder when one was a prostitute. Not a lot of people showed much interest in him outside of sex. Came with the job, unfortunately. This was kind of refreshing. “Actually...yeah. I do.” He said. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great!" Vaughn exclaimed. "Here’s my Echo!”

* * *

Rhys returned to Jack’s office and milled about there, pondering over his newfound fame as the whore everyone knew Jack had hired. And apparently some were less than pleased by it. He swallowed hard. He’d expected some public attention, but he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge how bad it could be. He was concerned to what it might lead to. Surely this wasn’t safe for him? Though he’d known his work with Jack would be the riskiest thing he’d done yet. He’d just have to keep a low profile as much as possible and hope that once the newness wore off, people would find other things to go mad over.

Rhys deflated. There wasn’t much to be done about it at this point. He returned to the couch and decided to entertain himself with the Echo Net for awhile, waiting for Jack's word.

Jack’s voice carried through Rhys’s distractions. “Rhysie, c’mere.” His tone was a lot more certain than it had been before.

Rhys restrained himself from leaping up immediately. He took a moment and closed everything out before rolling off the couch. “Yes, Jack?” he asked as he came over, voice silky sweet, leaning on the desk with his palms and arching his back forward suggestively.

“You said you worked at _Aries_ on the weekends?” Jack asked, unfazed. “A dancer?”

Rhys furrowed his brow. He was honestly a little surprised Jack remembered that much. Why bring it up now? “Yes, I was.”

“So turns out I remember going there once. But...I don’t recall _you_ being there.”

“Surprising,” Rhys said. “I’m quite a sight, so I’m sure you would’ve remembered.” He winked. “Must’ve been my night off. Sadly. I would've loved to see you there.”

Jack nodded and tapped his fingers against the desk. “I want you to strip.”

Rhys stared at Jack. It was an odd whiplash in conversation. He pulled away from the desk and took off his coat, and began undressing. He bared his torso and arms, a part of him wishing he’d gone with some straps underneath. A harness would be great right now.

Jack didn’t seem to mind, though. His eyes were heavy with lust, as it were. He whistled. “That’s quite the body art, kiddo. You trying to be someone’s little art project?”

“You know what they, your body's your temple. What good is it undecorated. And judging by the look on your face, you aren’t going to disagree.”

For once, Jack didn’t say a word.

Rhys reached for his pants.

“Ah, ah, princess. Wait. Leave that on for now. No need to rush this, eh? I've got time now. I had an excuse to cancel that stupid Maliwan meet I wasn't looking forward to, so now it's just you and me.” He laughed and put his hands behind his head, leaning back.

Rhys wanted to ask what Jack had in mind, but he had done his job enough to know better than to distract his clients from their own enjoyments, whatever they be. He waited, putting his hands behind his back and cocking his hip.

“I take it,” Jack said after a moment, head tilting. He looked content to just gaze at Rhys like he was a priceless sculpture. Rhys’s ego grew a few sizes from that alone. “You do...the _fun_ kind of dancing at Aries?”

Jack seemed quite hung up on that place.

Rhys thought about his words for a minute. “Sometimes it’s just...show dancing. In sexy outfits. Also, I do some pole. Gave me good _flexibility_. Oh, and uh, strip dancing, sometimes, but I try not to mix any of it up with actual sex.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“It gets messy.”

“Ohho? _Messy_ , eh?”

“Not like that. I mean...people start thinking it comes with the service and they can do whatever they want and it’s just...annoying. There’s a lot of assholes over there.”

“Hyperion is full of dicks,” Jack agreed. “But now, you’re working in the best place you could, cupcake. My office! Anyone bothers ya just put a bullet in 'em. You've got my permission.”

Rhys had to laugh at that. He decided not to tell Jack he didn't know how to use a gun. That would probably displease him. "I'll take that under advisement."

"No really. Bullets solve every problem. And those it doesn't, I recommend a good strangling." Did Jack just hire him for idle conversation? He’d been expecting...a _much_ more horny client out of this one, one who wanted to bang quite a bit, but Jack kept...stalling... And breaking his own little rules, come to think of it.

Oh. Right. Jack probably wasn’t fully warmed up to him yet. Rhys wondered if this was more a trust issue than anything else. It was starting to seem like it. It made sense. Jack may have chosen Rhys, but he also didn’t know Rhys well, and likely didn't want to (weird questions aside). And he had a reputation of being...somewhat untrusting, even paranoid.

So Rhys was just going to have to warm him up in _other_ ways.

He got an idea. “Would you like me to show you a bit of what I can do?” A grin tugged at his lips.

“I thought you said you don’t mix it with sex, cupcake.”

“Casual sex,” Rhys said. “Is what I meant. This is work sex. You made it pretty clear that was different. Plus you’re not just some annoying oggler at Aries who can't even be bothered to tip...”

“Ah, yes, the big difference, obviously.”

“You’re paying me for a good time, sir. I’m only doing my best to give you that.”

“Alright, Rhysie,” Jack said, a grin stretching his face. “Why don’tcha show me what you got like a good boy?”

 _Oh boy he’s either going to really regret saying that or…_ Rhys shrugged a bit. “Well. It’s not going to be as good without music.”

“That’s easy enough to fix. Just a club beat or-? I’ll just put it on the speakers. My office has music, hehe. How sweet is that?”

“Why don’t you choose the music, sir?”

“I can do that.”

Jack picked a simple but familiar and popular dance song, one with sexual overtones. Rhys kept heavy eye contact with Jack and started the dance, his face low, his smile confident. Little by little, Rhys picked up the moves, swaying his hips, biting his lip, dropping his chin to look at Jack through his lashes. Rhys drew closer to the desk with each hearbeat, noting Jack hadn’t looked away even once the entire time, his eyes dark. Rhys smirked and undid the top button on his pants, revealing more of himself.

Rhys reached out, brushing Jack’s chin very lightly.

Jack’s animalistic lust shifted into anger. Jack sprung up, rounding the desk with enough speed it caught Rhys off guard. Rhys flinched, stepping back, maybe made some vain attempt to dodge. Jack grabbed him and slammed him against the nearest wall. He pinned Rhys by the wrists, glaring. Rhys stilled, heart thudding. He reminded himself just _who_ he was working with - potentially the most unstable man on this station. He felt like the time when they’d first met. Unstable ground, uncertainty. This time, he...didn’t think Jack would kill him, but-

“What is it with you?” Jack hissed, eyes hard. He leaned closer. “I told you….don’t touch my friggin face, jackass. I also told ya the only true apology was not to screw up _again_ .” Jack’s grip tightened. “But what did you do? _Not_ listen.”

It took Rhys maybe a heartbeat too long to pull back to himself. He found the part of him that wasn’t terrified. The part of him that liked the effect he had on Jack. He glared back. "It's really that big a deal, huh?" 

“Everyone on this space station is scared shitless of me. They wouldn’t dare _sneeze_ around me without my permission. But _you…_ You haven’t even hesitated when you _know_ you should, babe.”

Rhys shifted. “You told me yourself. You didn’t want someone who was afraid of you… And you said you wouldn’t hurt me over sex. You were very adament on that. What did you expect?”

Jack’s expression shifted. “So… You think that gave you permission to annoy the shit out of me? ‘Cause newsflash! It didn’t! Do you know _who_ I am?”

“Yes yes, _the_ Handsome Jack."

"You're lucky I won't kill you over sex."

"Here’s the thing Jack. I tend to lean towards the more...pampered, controlling type. If you don’t like that, I suggest finding someone else. Oh and uh...powerbottom is not so inaccurate, either… I mean, if you _saw_ me let loose...” he added in a purr, half-hoping Jack might ask to see that. When Jack didn’t reply, he cleared his throat in annoyance and continued. “It was in my profile. Maybe if you had _read_ it, you would’ve realized what you were getting into with me. Look, you either want my services or you don’t. Which is it?” His heart thudded as he stood on his premonition. However, a part of him was afraid that Jack might change his mind.

“You’re a _whore_. Aren’t you people supposed to lie down and take it?”

“If that’s what you want,” Rhys said with a lick of his lips, “ _sure_ . I can manage that.... But I have to question why you chose me. You must’ve known that I wasn’t...a sweet little sex toy.” There was a pause, and Rhys seized it. “And from what I’ve seen Jack...you haven’t been so keen on initiative here. Or having me lie anywhere to take it.” He pouted again. “What’s a guy to _do_?” He got a leg between Jack’s and gave a slow grind. He grinned at the feeling of Jack’s hardness against him.

Jack’s right hand released his wrist and grasped Rhys’s hair, tight. “You little shit.” He pulled. It hurt, but it hurt _good_.

“It’s not what you want, is it?” Rhys said through gritted teeth. He laughed in pain as the pressure increased. “Or you...would’ve bought a sex doll, huh? Cheaper in the long run. And why _haven’t_ you pinned me down yet and shown me what you got?”

“Stop talking or I’ll put my dick in that mouth of yours.”

Rhys licked his lips. “Do it.”

Jack yanked him around, slamming Rhys chest-first against the wall. Rhys grunted, breath knocked out of him. It wasn’t what Rhys had been expecting, exactly, even pushing Jack’s buttons the way he had. He didn’t even really know _what_ Jack was doing. Jack got close. Very close. He flushed his body against Rhys’s, as if testing the feel of it. Rhys whimpered in spite of himself at the feeling of Jack’s cock against his thigh, Jack’s clothes against his skin, the pocketwatch painful as it dug into his soft flesh.

Jack’s hand slipped up his belly, to his chest, feeling him up. Rhys remained very still as Jack explored his body with his hands, concentrating on breathing. Jack’s own breath was hot against his neck, and Rhys couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up his spine. He was used to being felt up. But Jack was different, better, certain and strong. His hands had started slow but picked up speed. They were thorough, exploring every inch of Rhys’s exposed body, digging into his skin in all the right places.

And also...this was _Handsome Jack,_ of all people. It was safe to say Rhys enjoyed this a little too much. He couldn’t help it. Rhys’s breathing grew ragged.

Jack squeezed his groin, almost angrily. “You aint into this?” He demanded.

He must’ve been referring to Rhys’s lack of hardness. If only Jack knew the full effect he had on him. Rhys gasped in air. “I’m just...good at not reacting.”

Jack growled, his weight leaving Rhys. He spun Rhys back around, eyes hard. “How the frig is that even possible.”

“Cyborg, remember.”

“You got a robo dick, sweetheart?”

“Why dontcha find out?” Rhys murmured, winking.

Jack’s hand on his chest pushed him back against the wall, firmly. “Are you serious? Wow. For all your mouthiness, you’ve certainly turned yourself _into_ a sex toy, haven’t you, kitten?”

Rhys stuck his bottom lip out. “And yet...you stilll won’t make use of me... Would you rather I take the reins here…?” Rhys let the question dangle. He reached out with his cybernetic hand, and pressed it against Jack’s abdomen, tracing the clothing there.

Jack scowled at his hand, then back at Rhys’s face. “You...you’re so goddamn frustrating, pumpkin… I don’t let people like you act the way you do, and yet…”

“You like it.” It wasn’t even a guess really. Rhys had gathered as much from the way Jack came apart so fast during the blow job. Also Rhys was starting to realize that Jack liked dominance in partners more than he let on.

Jack bared his teeth. “Shut. Up. _Shithead_.”

He just didn’t want to admit it, apparently.

“Make me,” Rhys hissed. He broke Jack’s hold on his cyber arm and hooked it into Jack’s pants. He latched onto the belt with his other hand. He only hesitated for a moment, long enough to glance into Jack’s eyes to ensure he hadn’t grossly miscalculated. Jack just stared at him with that fire in gaze, heated and...maybe even a tinge desperate. But Jack wasn’t protesting or stopping him, so Rhys undid Jack’s belt and yanked down his pants...and Jack...well, Jack still let him. It was almost surprising. Almost. If Rhys hadn’t basically predicted this since their first sexual encounter.

Rhys ran the warming functions in the cybernetic hand, wrapping it around Jack’s cock. “Don’t move.” Rhys said and began stroking. His cyber hand was fancy enough to contain a nice little perk: lube storage. Rhys set it to trickle out of the palm as he moved, slicking up Jack’s cock with ease.

Jack gave a heavy moan, then butted their foreheads together. Rhys winced. Jack hadn’t been gentle, and the man’s skull was as hard as one would guess, even through flesh and mask. Which by the way, Rhys loved the feel of.

Rhys kept at it, filled with something like reverence at the way Jack was melting against him, their breaths mingling. “Oh there, yeah...good...good boy.”

Jack dropped his forehead to Rhys’s shoulder, panting hot air against his ear. He groaned without warning, jerking his hips, rutting into Rhys's grip. Jack _bit_ Rhys, right on the neck, hard. Rhys flinched. “Ow, fuck! What the hell, Jack!?” Rhys squeezed a bit too much in response, working a quaint little sound from Jack. He kept going though. Jack’s hips started thrusting, his breath picking up. Obviously he was getting closer to orgasm.

So Rhys stopped.

Jack hissed. "You stop now and I will make you bleed, cupcake." He ghosted his lips against the spot he'd bitten.

Well, Rhys knew a threat if there ever was one. He had half a mind to take up the offer. Instead, he gripped tighter onto Jack and turned on the vibration mode. Jack gasped, coming against Rhys’s bare stomach in thick spurts, his cock twitching and throbbing in Rhys’s grasp.

That was fast. Like last time.

Rhys smirked. Jack couldn’t see it, but Rhys was so _pleased_ with himself.

“Friggin little shit, screw you, you deserved that.” Jack pulled back, glaring at him. “Jerk yourself off. _Now_. Let’s see if that cyber dick actually works or not, cause I ain't convinced.” 

Rhys chuckled. “Whatever you want.” At this point, he knew pushing Jack any further would risk what he was building here. His compliance was Jack’s reward. He locked his gaze on Jack’s and tilted his head back, almost lazily, resting it against the wall but never breaking eye contact.

Rhys - _finally_ \- got to undo his pants. Jack’s eyes dropped to watch, before he grimaced. “You don’t get to use the vibrator on that fancy hand of yours."

Rhys sighed and pulled out his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “Whatever you wish, sir.”

Jack's eyes narrowed as he observed. “You really went and put wires in your own dick, huh?” He observed.

Rhys smiled, knowing Jack was referring to the implants that were partially visible, the sleek ones with the soft, flesh-like casings near the base of his dick. Rhys had a suspicion Jack’s mask was made of a similar material. “Now you know why it only gets hard when I let it.” Rhys did just that, working his dick to its fullness.

“People like that, do they?”

“What do you think?” Rhys batted his lashes, dropping his voice to a purr. “Some people want to fantasize I’m getting nothing out of it when they fuck me, like a built in cock cage. Some just want to feel like I have one hundred percent control over everything going on in the room, including my arousal.”

Jack bit his lip. “Mm yeah, I could see that.”

Rhys almost grinned. “And sometimes they just are super into the cyborg aesthetic. Take your pick.” Rhys rubbed on his dick, neck prickling under Jack’s scrutiny. He dropped his voice. “But a lack of hardness isn’t all these implants can do. They also give my dick a lot more stamina than everyone else.”

“Oh really? That...actually is pretty hot.” There was a heartbeat. “Are _you_ into guys?” Jack blurted.

Rhys blanked for a moment, hand stopping. What? What did that have to do with _anything_ ? And why on Helios was that even in question... He shook his head as he remembered his task. “Wow. _Sexy_ .” Rhys said, pulling harder on his dick sarcastically. “I think I might come _instantly_.”

Jack tapped his jaw, a warning. “Answer the damned question.”

“Gender doesn’t matter so much to me,” Rhys responded with a shake of his head. “Now are you going to let me jerk off or not? Would you rather have a conversation about preferences? Be warned, I’m going to have to charge you an extra fee for pillow talk, because that was _not_ in the contract that _you_ made up for me.”

Jack hissed, “get it over with then. God, you’re slow.”

“Only because _you_ are the one distracting this time."

Jack’s eyes fell again to Rhys’s ministrations. Rhys picked up the speed. Not too fast, but not too slow. Enough for the friction to be interesting to _him_ , but not so much it disinterested Jack . Rhys hated to admit it, but Jack _watching_ him closely was...doing things to him. It maybe should’ve made this difficult, but honestly, it helped. A lot.

Rhys came, sucking in a sharp breath as cum spilled into his palm. The orgasm wasn’t that great, but it was _something_ , he supposed. So maybe Rhys could’ve done with a _little_ more participation from Jack, but-

“Do it again.” Jack growled, resting his hand against Rhys’s throat. He flexed it. “I wanna see that promised _stamina_ , babe.”

Rhys swallowed, his skin growing hotter under the pressure. He obeyed, jacking himself until he came again, this time on his stomach where Jack’s cum still was.

That was...stupidly hot to him.

“That’s really _somethin’_ , sweetheart." Apparently Jack agreed to some extent. Or maybe he was just referring to lack of a refactory period. " _Again_. Keep ‘em coming ‘til I say otherwise.”

"Hey if you...wanna help...you can squeeze that hand of yours a bit..."

Jack complied, tightening his grip.

Hot arousal flooded Rhys and he jerked himself once again. The next climax was stronger, shuddering through his whole being. At first, this situation had felt...honestly boring. But there was something now, about the weight on his neck, the growing tension, and Jack’s steady eyes that were all filling him with undeniable heat. Around the fifth orgasm, he felt shaky and unsteady, immensely thankful for the wall to lean on. He didn’t usually masturbate this much...and especially not on his feet.

Rhys lost count of how many times he came, head light and airy from all the chemicals in his brain, gaze hard to focus. And maybe from the fact Jack had shortened his oxygen.

The hand released his windpipe. “Okay, stop, Rhysie.”

“Y-yes, sir…” Rhys blinked up at Jack, belatedly realizing he’d left his mouth open too long and some drool was seeping out the side. He wiped it away, flushing with embarrassment. There was some on Jack's hand, but Jack didn't even seem to really notice.

“That’s a good look on you," Jack stated. It was his turn to look smug. "And you’ve finally lost that smart mouth of yours. Guess you just need a good fuckin’ out to be the babe of my dreams, eh?”

But...that wasn’t what had happened. And Rhys wished... it had. “Jack, I-”

“Anyway, go shower, you filthy whore, that mess is no longer hot- just disgusting,” Jack patted his shoulder and left Rhys to do just that, returning his desk.

It took Rhys a few moments to collect himself and comply with that last order.

* * *

Bryant called Rhys that night after his shift, and the idiot seemed suspiciously pleased about something. “ _Rhys_ ,” he greeted in the most cheerful voice Rhys had heard from him in awhile. It was _too_ cheerful.

“Bryant.”

“It appears word of Jack’s little dalliance has spread across the entire station _already_ . It’s all over the media, making headlines, _trending…_ ”

“And?”

“ _And_? Ugh, use your brain! You’re quite famous!”

“Yeah,” Rhys said, rolling his eyes, “I noticed. Why are you so pleased?”

“Oh...nothing, nothing...just realize this gives your position a whole new...weight - a political aspect even. It’s going to be watched by the sharks in the water very closely. You're treading on very thin ice, boy.”

Rhys sighed. “I don’t care about the politics. And neither does Jack, I’m sure. All I care about is pleasing him, and earning my pay - _our_ pay.”

“Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure, but ah, don’t forget that Jack is only one man. People all across this station will want to get involved. Just...consider how long you can last under such pressure.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I get it. You’re happy because you think I’m gonna buckle. Well, I’m not.”

“It’s simply something to think about.” There was a shuffling noise on the other end of the line. “Besides the added fame is going to get us more business over all. I guess...you being Jack’s escort isn’t so bad. _Yet_.” Bryant hung up.

Ugh, why couldn’t Rhys have a supervisor who wasn’t an asshole?


	7. Kneel to the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is faced with Rhys's secret... And his own feelings on it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I just realized....the meat of this fic is a lot of gratuitous smut. There be no Real plots out here, lads. Not for a fair bit, anyway. The sea of smuts.

Jack looked up from his office chair, eyes roving over Rhys. “Nice _look_ , cupcake.” Rhys had dressed just as nicely as Jack was execting.

“Before we do anything,” Rhys said. “There’s...something I should show you.”

“Oh, is it something real _kinky_ , babe?” Jack’s eyebrows wiggled.

Rhys rolled his eyes. “You don’t know the meaning of that word do you?”

“Sure I do.”

Rhys wasted no time. He turned around, bent at the waist, and thrusted his ass out. It might have been a sexy gesture but-

Jack was caught off guard. It took a few seconds to process a string of emotions. Soulmark. Stinging.

Pain.

_Not mine._

And then he was laughing. Hard. Forcing down everything else but that tiny amusement and magnifying it beyond itself. “Oh, you weren’t _kidding_. A _soulmark_ on your _ass_?” Jack howled, feeling like he might bust his gut, bent over himself and almost crying. His face tingled under the mask. “That’s friggin’ _hilarious_. Yeah, this was a good idea, I would’ve been crying too much to be turned on by that cute ass- needed to get the surprise over with!”

Rhys faced Jack again, scowling. “Oh, shut up. It’s not that funny.”

“Isn't it?” Jack said, mock-wiping a tear away. “It's on your ass, Rhys. Your soul mark is just....making it glow like the golden treasure it is, haha. But boy, with how you were acting, I thought this was gonna be something _major_ , huh - like that you had three butt cheeks or something.”

Rhys looked down, an odd expression on his face. “Well, for some people it _is_ something major.”

“Rhys, come on, babe, do I look like a _some people_ to you?”

Rhys met his eyes again. Then gave a small smile. He seemed....somewhat relieved. “Nope. You look just like you, Jack.”

Jack smiled back. “Super hot? Stunning? Gorgeous? Always on his A game? Great. Glad we agree. Now are we gonna bang or what?”

* * *

Jack paced his office, chewing his lip. He couldn’t contain the angry energy buzzing through his limbs, the flashes of blood in his thoughts. He was in a very particular mood, not quite anger, not quite excitement, but unable to stop or relax, heartbeat pounding, thoughts growing more chaotic with each step. He needed some…some _way_ to just…let it all loose. Normally he'd just find some bonehead slacker to strangle.

But there was also another method of letting loose. 

He glanced at the time. It was still two more hours before Rhys came in. 

Rhys's performance these last few weeks had been nothing short of _wonderful_. And he was thoroughly pleased with this new outlet of his. Not that he was going to let the kid know that. Oh no, Rhys was going to have to work a lot harder to earn such praise, considering his ego was already the size of Elpis. And maybe be a bit less of a pain in the ass too, while he was at it.

Jack called Rhys. Rhys had barely picked up when he started talking, “hey, you have any objections to coming in early, cupcake?” Anticipation mounted, pacing steps growing faster. His thoughts were twisting tighter and tighter with each step. _Please say yes-_

“Um, yeah, sure. Why not?”

Jack did a fist pump. “Great. Get your tight ass up here ASAP.” That ass. Tight. Perfect. Glowing gold.

 _Not mine._ His thoughts whispered, the soulmark glaring in his eyelids. Why did that even matter? Rhys was a whore, nothing more. “I’ve got a lil _surprise_ for you.” And oh boy did he. It was perfect.

“Do you need me to bring anything-?” Rhys started, his voice huskier.

“Nope. Just you. Immediately.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Great.”

Jack rubbed his face hard through the mask, a growl of deep frustration rising in his throat. Soulmarks were bullshit. Deep down, even the most stupid romantic idiot would admit that in the dead of the night to themselves. He knew it. They knew it. The whole fucking galaxy knew it. All it took was a quick Echo search to learn how many had been betrayed by their marks or their supposed " _soulmates_ ". It was all chance, not fate. He shouldn’t even think about it. Pathetic.

He wouldn’t. He couldn't. 

He didn't even like the kid. He didn't want dudes, and…

Rhys. 

Rhys was just a whore. All of his little addicting noises and blown-eyed, flushed looks were purely for show. He knew it. Rhys knew it. 

Sex plus pay…. That was Rhys. If he stopped paying, Rhys stopped dealing.

Jack slammed his fist against the desk. He didn't want Rhys as a soulmate, of course, the thought was massively absurd. But he couldn’t shake the feeling he did want to _own_ Rhys. In what way, though...? Put chains on him or...something. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. But it was different. Even now. Maybe even more dangerous. He suspected it had to do with that defiance Rhys lobbed at him so confidently and the part of Jack that wanted to tear it down and bare Rhys completely. 

This wasn't soulmates. The implication of love was fucking _ridiculous_.

It was lust. Dominance even. A power play. 

Rhys just looked good with his lips stretched around Jack. Rhys looked good coming apart. He looked good with no defiance left in his eyes, tears on his pink face. 

Rhys was just a whore. Nothing more.

* * *

Jack looked up, spotting Rhys strolling into the office. His eyes narrowed, and for once, he wasn’t really paying attention to Rhys’s attire, despite knowing it’d be lovely. “I’ve been needing this _all_ day…” Slipped out before he could stop it. "I...I need to..." His hands shook. He clenched them to stop that.

“Jack?” Rhys asked, brows rising. He gestured. "You alright?" 

Jack ignored that. “Take it off. All of it.”

Rhys complied. He seemed to sense the urgency, because he wasted no time stripping down to nothing.

Jack beckoned toward his chair and desk. Rhys followed, an unexpected smile tugging on his lips. If he kept that up, Jack was going to fuck it off his stupidly hot face. Seriously. Where did they _make_ guys like this?

“What’s this _surprise_?” Rhys asked in a suggestive voice. “Can’t _wait_ to see it.”

Jack always had a bit of trouble reading Rhys. A bit of trouble seeing what was genuine or what was part of his prostitute persona, what Rhys was really thinking at any given moment. It both impressed and bothered him. Rhys could've been quite a businessman himself, he thought. But it didn’t really matter. There were ways to destroy that front and get to the man underneath, or so he had discovered. It was the only thing stopping Jack from ending this little game between them.

Okay. Maybe not the _only_ thing.

Jack walked over to his desk and opened a drawer with a black and silver box in it. He picked it up and tossed it at Rhys. Rhys caught and opened it. His face had the decency to look surprised. For all of two seconds, anyway, before neutralizing again. He cleared his throat and met Jack’s gaze.

“Any objections?” Jack demanded, impatience winning over.

“None.” Rhys sat the box on the desk and pulled out the dark leather band within. It was studded with gold but made to be soft to the touch. A collar. Rhys eyed it for several moments. Jack crossed the distance between them, yanked the collar from Rhys’s hands and hooked it around Rhys’s throat. It sure did have a lovely, smooth texture. “Jack-”

Jack secured it, making sure it was snug against the skin. “Still good?” He demanded, hooking two fingers in to test the breathing room. Excellent.

“Y-yes.”

“Now for the best part,” Jack purred. He grabbed the leash from his pocket, a glittery pretty thing. He latched it on the collar. “Yeah that looks good on you, sweetcheeks.”

“Wow this is quite a leap,” Rhys said. He gripped the leash. Jack encouraged him towards the chair by tugging the leash. Rhys followed, pupils dilated and cheeks tinting red. “Is this something you’ve been sitting on, or….?”

Jack chuckled and yanked, catching Rhys off guard and making him stumble into him. Jack let his hand run over Rhys’s back. His skin was crazy soft, inviting. He caught the color. The gold. That glow. He peered down at Rhys’s ass. Who needed a stupid soulmark. There were such better marks that could be put in the skin.

“You gettin’ cold feet, sir?” Rhys breathed against his neck, brushing it with his lips.

Jack did it before he really considered it. A sharp crack as his hand connected with Rhys’s ass. Rhys hissed, fingers digging into Jack. “Fuck.” Jack wondered if it would bruise. Hoped it would. Anything to diminish that stupid mark. Whoever laid claim to it would know Jack had been there.

“Who is it?” Jack asked.

“What?”

Jack hesitated, realizing what he said. He just slammed his palm against Rhys’s ass again, working another noise from Rhys. He should stop, should really stop-

“For having such big hands, you sure hit like a baby.”

Jack slapped his ass harder than before. Rhys grunted. Jack tangled his left hand into Rhys’s hair and yanked him back to look into his eyes. He loosened his hold. “Kneel.”

Rhys smirked. “How about you make me?” Jack felt a surge of pure annoyance. He yanked Rhys onto his knees as he’d asked. Rhys laughed, though it sounded somewhat pained. “Yeah, that’s the stuff-”

“I’d cuff you but your hands are pretty damn useful,” Jack said. He sat in his chair, pulling Rhys closer. He opened his pants. “Same deal about gaggin’ your pretty mouth.” Jack pulled his dick out. He was already fairly hard from the sight of Rhys in that collar alone. And from the spanking he’d dealt him. Jack made no effort to hide this. Jack tilted his head, something occurring to him “On second thought, no hands until I say so. Let’s see if you're any good without ‘em.”

“I’m the best with or without hands. I had to go without one for a long time, anyway.” Rhys shifted to a presumably more comfortable position, then leaned in and kissed the very tip of Jack’s cock. He licked the side, smug as ever. “Hands or not, I’ll have you cumming in minutes. And you know it.”

Jack was getting tired of Rhys’s arrogance. He yanked the leash, a warning. “Not this time."

Rhys’s brow furrowed. "Oh yeah, and wh-"

“You told me once you can go slow. Give me a good time, _kitten_ ,” Jack hissed. “Oh, and you can’t touch yourself, either.”

Rhys’s smile softened and he gazed hungrily at Jack. “Whatever you wish, sir.” He lowered his face and continued to mouth along Jack’s dick. He paused and looked up, eyelids fluttering. God, Rhys could look so very pornographic at times. Jack resisted the urge to squirm in impatience. He’d decided to slow this down, but he was already...regretting that. He’d rather just fuck Rhys’s throat. He had so much to just let out. Rhys spoke in a gentle tone. “I love your cock, sir… I love it when it’s hard and throbbing and leaking for me…” Jack felt his breath hitch and his eyes widening. It was getting hot and damp under his mask, and a stream of pleasure curled up inside of him. No, he was hot right up to the tips of his ears, small sounds at the edges of his breathing he hadn’t realized he was making. His dick throbbed. He couldn’t be close, though. They’d just started. 

“I love it when it’s soft, too,” Rhys sighed, air brushing gently across Jack’s sensitive skin. “It’s so very gorgeous and precious. It’s basically gold. But better.” His tongue swiped up the length a couple times. “And you know how much I love gold… And I love how you feel in my mouth, the taste of you.” He lightly sucked on the head. “I love it, from the base of your balls, to the tip of the head.”

Rhys...for lack of a better word... _nuzzled_ his dick, holding it up with his face and peering at Jack around it. His eyes were hooded, dark, face flushed. “I love everything about your cock….I’d worship it like a religion if you’d let me-” Rhys’s kissed his dick. “I’d worship _you_.”

Jack gasped, voice pitching embarrassingly, and ejaculated across Rhys’s face. Rhys flinched and gazed up at Jack with a careful expression, one eye closed as cum dripped from his eyebrow, more of it dotting his face. Even a bit in his-

“Did you just get cum in my hair?!” Rhys hissed. “Do you _know_ how long it takes me to style this-? How hard I work to keep it soft and lush!? Then you go putting your- your _semen_ in it!”

Jack thought quickly. “Yeaah, sooo...I um-” Jack cleared his throat. He thought quickly. “Meant to do that. That’s for being a little shit.” He was amazing at improvising. He mentally patted his own back.

“You meant to cum after twenty seconds of foreplay?” Rhys asked incredulously.

Jack resisted the urge to shift. “Yeah, also I’m...just…really potent today, cupcake. It happens. I mean. I cum in my dreams like…eighty percent of the time. But not last night. Been needing it bad. And why use my hand when I have your face nearby.” He grinned at Rhys. “Oh and uh, I guess you can uh, get a tissue off my desk and wipe that eye - and oh so precious _hair_ \- if you need to.” Jack loosened his hold on the leash to allow that.

"This hair is half the reason I'm so irresistible-" Rhys glared, but any attempt to be taken seriously was hampered by the mess on his face. Rhys seemed to realize this and paused to clean up as best he could with the tissues. He turned back to Jack. Jack braced for more complaining. Instead...a grin cracked Rhys's face, irritation melting. He looked quite amused. He started laughing. “Oh- oh my _god_ , you- you just can’t control yourself _at all_ , can you? Or do you just like praise that much?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I basically _breathed_ on your dick and you were _finished_ ,” he guffawed. “And there I was, gonna- gonna do one of those slow builds! Amazing!” 

“I’m-” Jack was burning under the mask again. “What do you expect from a _stallion_ , Rhysie?!”

“Oh my god- well, I guess you are fast like a horse, aren’t you-?”

Jack jerked on the leash, pulling Rhys right off his feet and into his lap. “ _Say that again_. I dare ya."

“You’re fast, you’re fast,” Rhys chanted, laughing. "You're fast!"

“I’m gonna-” 

“Gonna what?” Rhys batted his lashes up at him. Evil. Just pure evil.

“-gonna teach you a goddamned lesson, pumpkin.”

“I can’t wait for that to be a genuine threat.”

“Oh, but it is!” Jack tightened the collar enough to get Rhys's attention. The confidence in Rhys’s gaze flickered for a minute. Finally. And god, Jack did mean it. Jack slapped Rhys’s ass, knocking the rest of the amusement right off his face. With the collar, Jack pulled Rhys’s head down hard against his chest, forcing the whore into submission. He hesitated just a moment to see if Rhys might use his safe word. Rhys didn’t. Jack hit his ass again, harder. And again, and again, listening closely for any sign that it was too much…

Rhys sobbed, a sound that he couldn’t tell if it was filled with arousal or pain or both. Jack stopped and pulled Rhys’s head up, looking into his glistening eyes where tears had built up. Rhys shivered. Jack was a bit subdued by the sight. More than he thought he’d be. “Hey, you green, kitten? Or do you need a minute?”

Rhys drew a shuddering breath, hands bracing against Jack’s chest. “‘M good, sir. Green as a garden.” He seemed to force a smile.

“Great.” Jack scooted them both forward, to the desk. “Up. Onto the desk there, babe.” Jack said. He finally let go of the leash. Rhys complied, albeit slowly. He panted for a few moments before sitting up and backing to the desk. He winced when his butt made contact with the solid surface. That… Well, Jack thought he’d feel more pleased by that. But now he wondered if he’d gone a bit too hard on the kid. And that just wasn’t fun. He didn’t want to... _genuinely_ hurt Rhys. Well, maybe a little. Not a lot. Unless… Rhys really really liked it. 

Rhys's smile seem to become more genuine. “Jack? What’s the matter, am I just too hot you can't stop staring at me for even _one_ second?”

Seemed about right. Rhys wasn’t quite ruined. Yet. Jack was annoyed at himself for even thinking Rhys might be. Rhys might look like a twig, but he wasn’t _that_ fragile. Well, he was going to have to fix that, wasn’t he? Rhys’s hard cock was giving him plenty of options. Jack considered them. He knew _he_ wouldn’t be ready to cum again for awhile, but he didn’t need his dick to shut this little whore up. “Lay down. On your back.”

Rhys lay back. Jack’s hands spread his legs, exposing him fully. He pushed Rhys’s thighs up to assess the damage he’d done beneath. Rhys’s ass was already darkening around the soulmark, and that, _that_ did fill Jack with vindictive pleasure. He let one hand trail down and squeeze. Rhys groaned. If Jack weren’t incapable of getting hard again so soon, he'd be pounding the guy.

He wouldn’t mind fucking that soulmark apart.

Jack opened his desk and pulled out the lube he always kept on hand. He popped the cap and squirted it onto his fingers. With his other hand, he spread Rhys’s ass to see what he was working with. A hole, of course. Couldn’t be much different than getting a woman ready, right?

Rhys jumped when Jack pressed the lube into it. Jack slid his finger in, spreading the lube. Jack leaned in and licked his cock. Rhys gasped. Rhys blinked down at him, the coloring in his face getting darker. If Jack had any reservations, that was the end of them.

“I swear,” Jack grunted, gazing into the mismatched eyes. “I just...keep thinking about what it looks like when…”

“When what?” Rhys asked, fingers clenching on the edge of the desk. “Tell me-”

“I admit, Rhysie, I’ve never done this before with a man… But I imagine you won’t begrudge me... _experimenting_ a bit.” He chuckled.

Rhys’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “N-no, of course not. _Please, experiment_. That’s what I’m here for- But don’t feel compelled to finish, if-if-” 

“You think this is gonna bother me?” Jack breathed. He moved in closer. “Come on, I’m Handsome Goddamned Jack. This is nothing.” Jack gripped Rhys's cock and licked it. Jack sucked a little on the side, before brushing his lips to the base and back up again. He opened his mouth and went down on Rhys, taking him into his mouth. He was mindful of his teeth. Rhys’s back arched, but he seemed to be restraining himself from squirming too much. Jack sucked and listened to his breathing picking up. Jack was a fast learner. He knew how Rhys treated him when sucking his dick, so he used his own tongue. Rhys moaned so loud, Jack’s cock did twitch as if it were about to erect again. Rhys’s hand flew to his mouth as if to suppress it. All it really seemed to take to turn Rhys into a mess was to turn the pleasure back onto him, Jack realized. And god was that satisfying in so many ways. Breaking Rhys apart like that. It seemed to be...getting easier every time, too.

Jack let go of Rhys’s dick and grinned at him. "God, if I'm fast, then you’re _easy_ , baby, sooo easy. You gonna laugh at me when you start moaning and twitching after a couple licks? When you submit this quickly? As if you last that long yourself, pumpkin.” Jack sucked on Rhys’s foreskin.

“H-ha, you really don’t h-have a right to-” Rhys cut off on a groan. “God- _hng_ , you’re _way_ easier than me-!” Rhys panted. “I've been hard a lot longer than- Oh god, yeah, just like that... _yeah… More, now-_ ” Jack decided this was the perfect moment to slide his lubed fingers back inside of Rhys, exploring him. Jack found when he hit a certain spot, Rhys practically sobbed. “God _yes_ !” Jack kept the pressure there, rubbing hard and fast. “Jack...I’m gonna...gonna _come_.”

“Do it, then.” Jack’s hand moved faster, and he slicked his tongue up and down Rhys’s shaft.

“Jack.... _Jack_ !” Rhys came, spilling cum across his stomach and chest. “Oh...unngh, _Jack_.” He brushed his hands through Jack’s hair. “Fuck…that was good… Really good.” Jack leaned back and gazed into Rhys's eyes. 

“Well, duh, what’d you expect from Handsome Jack, baby?”

Rhys smiled. “If you don’t mind my asking...how’d you know about the fingering?”

“God, I didn’t say I was a friggin’ virgin- I said I’d never done it with a _man_. You think women don’t like a bit of fingering?! Or you only out there servicing dudes?”

“O-oh,” Rhys said, flushing with embarrassment. “Right. Ahem. Right.”

Jack surged over Rhys and pressed their lips together, pinning him against the desk. It was the first time he’d connected their mouths like this, come to think of it. A _kiss…_ But it wasn’t gentle by any means. He’d been thinking about ravaging those soft lips for quite awhile now. And he did. He bit and sucked, working noises out of Rhys all the while. More marks on Rhys. It wasn’t enough to just mark his ass. He needed to mark more, more than that stupid gold mark. He’d mark every inch of his body with bruises and hickeys and-

Rhys was _his_ whore. No one else's. 

Rhys’s legs went to his waist, curling around him. 

Jack was surprised when he felt his dick hardening. He didn't think enough time had passed for it to be doing that already. Not that he was gonna complain. He broke the kiss. Rhys's lips were red and swollen and so perfect. Jack was going to have to do that again before the next time Rhys sucked him off. But right now, he had more important things to consider. “Well, whaddya know, pumpkin! I think I’m ready to fuck ya now, if you still want-”

“Yes, pleaase,” Rhys begged. “God, _please_.”

Finally. Finally. Finally past that smart mouth. “Keep begging.”

“Jack, I want your dick inside me, fuck, I _need_ it, please just do it-”

Jack pulled Rhys closer to the edge of the desk. He lined his hardened dick up with Rhys’s hole and took a brief moment to think, _this is it._ After this, there’d be no going back on what their routine would look like. He thought about that soulmark...and threw his hips forward, hard, as if to knock Rhys off the desk. He held Rhys in place, though, making him take it all.

Jack didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was tight and hot and slick and that was all the incentive he needed to keep going. Rhys whined and gripped onto his lapels, gasping viciously as if he’d been drowning a moment ago. 

“God, Jack, _yes…Fuck me!_ ”

"Yeah, fuck you, princess."

" _Mmmff_ , shut up-" 

It felt so good. So fucking good. God why did he wait so long to try this? “You look good like this, baby,” Jack said. Rhys’s legs squeezed tighter around him. “So _good_ ..” He wrapped his hand around Rhys's soft neck, fingers digging into that weird tattoo. “Fuck.” Jack sucked in a breath. “I’ve been needing to _ruin_ you all day. Just break all that sass and bossiness-”

Rhys came first as Jack murmured against his neck. He whimpered and clung to Jack, hands clawing into his coat.

Jack forced another orgasm out of him before he himself came with Rhys clenched tight around him. They both slumped against the desk, gasping for breath. “Friggin hell, kitten,” Jack whispered. “You’ve done so good today.” Yes. Fucking Rhys out was so good. Rhys always did good. So so good. "You've...been perfect since day one," Jack accidentally let slip. 

"I...you..." Rhys's face was trying to cover something up, Jack could tell. "Um...yeah, you know it."

Rhys followed Jack when the other sat up, wincing. Even Jack felt pretty sore. “Take the rest of the night off, Rhys.”

“Mm, you sure?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I'm good.”

“Alright…”

* * *

….

* * *

"Isn't it amazing!" Rhys exclaimed at his friends over dinner. "Jack said I've been doing good! I think Jack actually _likes_ me! I mean, not like _like_ me," he laughed nervously, "that'd be crazy, but likes me as a person- or you know, maybe not like, I mean he is Handsome _Jack_ \- But he's happy and that's. Oooh Bryant's gonna be _pissed_ -"

Both Vaughn and Yvette looked at him and exclaimed. _"Oh my god, shut up, Rhys!"_

"Thank god he can't give actual details, right??" Vaughn laughed. "Is he always like this?"

"Always," Yvette replied.

Vaughn sighed. 

"I can still hear you!" Rhys frowned. "and you have no right to judge, Vaughn, after walking into the bathroom the other day while I was peeing and proceeding to start a conversation about someone you hate-"

"Okay okay jeeze! You should've locked if you didn't want someone to come in!"

"How about we go for drinks and a movie," Yvette said. "Rhys can celebrate his crush semi-liking him in bed-"

"Oh come on-" 

"And we can just chill."

"Sounds like a deal!" Vaughn yelled before Rhys could protest any further. "You all wanna watch the new B&B movie!?"

Now it was Yvette's turn to sigh. "Only if you're buying."

"I'm outta cash right now..."

They both looked at Rhys. 

"Oh my God. You two... _Fine_."

"Hey, I'm not the one with a bajillion dollars lying around, bro!" Vaughn's Echo rang. "Oh BRB, sorry, I gotta take this." He leapt up and hurried out of the room. They heard the apartment door slam. 

Yvette remarked. "That was odd."

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend?"

"Doubt it."

Rhys and Yvette laughed. 


	8. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys finds Jack in a less than agreeable mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I lied a bit. there's more plot this chapter. XD

Rhys sauntered into Jack's office, smug with the memories of their last fuck, remembering Jack's praise. He stopped. Jack's yelling reached his ears. Rhys noted that Jack was giving a tirade into the phone at his desk. Rhys waited by the door, shifting from foot to foot for an uncomfortable five minutes. When it ended, he crossed to the desk where Jack had buried his head in his hands.

"Jack," Rhys said. "Handsome."

Jack glanced up, eyes burning with barely contained fury. Rhys wondered if he could help with that. He knew how Jack liked to work out his frustrations. But he couldn't shake the feeling it was different this time. A part of him was telling him to walk out right _now_. But he had a job, one that he took seriously. "Look, Rhys," Rhys. No Rhysie, or babe, or even cupcake. Just Rhys. Jack's tone was gruff, worn, exhausted. He raked his hair with stiff fingers. "I'm not... I need to cancel our appointment today."

That stung. More than Rhys wanted to admit. There was no buffer there. Just Jack telling him a stiff no, not offering any reassurances or explanation. "But...I...I could help." He tried, lamely.

"Not this time," Jack's hands clenched on the desk. "I don't have time to- And I don't... Just _don't_." His words simmered with something raw and bitter. "Don't argue with me, Rhys. Not this goddamned time." His usually rambling manner of speech was replaced with short clipped sentences interrupting each other.

Rhys had the feeling he shouldn't push...but he really did _want_ to help. In the way he knew best. Wasn't that what he was supposed to do? "I could really work out some of that stress, Jack. You know me." He stepped forward, offering a smile. "I'm very _good_ at that." Rhys didn't touch Jack's face, even if a part of him wanted to. But he did reach forward to trail a hand down Jack's shoulder to his chest, asking. "Let me suck you off, _handsome_ ," he purred. Jack felt unbelievably tense, even through all his layers. Rhys hadn't been able to see it, but there was even a fine tremble there, as if Jack were coiled up tight, a viper about to strike. Rhys saw something conflict behind the mismatched eyes.

Jack grabbed his wrist and stood, jerking Rhys back almost painfully. He shoved Rhys away, almost knocking him off his feet with the force of it. "Get out of my office, asshole!" He yelled. "How _stupid_ are you? I told you not to _argue_ with-with- I am not in the mood for- for _you_. Or sex. Do I have to write it on a friggin' sign and nail it to my forehead or would that still be too much for you to comprehend?"

Rhys winced, rubbing his wrist and stepping back. He was too off-guard to even reply to that. All of it was sinking in, slowly, painfully.

Jack's glare was death. He pointed at the door of his office. "Out. _Now_! Before we both regret it!"

Rhys took one look at Jack and realized his error. He'd been so wrong to push at all. Jack wasn't just angry. He looked _feral,_ bedraggled, hair a mess, eyes bright like a rabid animal's, coffee stains on his clothes, fists purpling as if he'd been punching something unforgiving like a wall. He looked worse off than the day Rhys had met him in Holloway's office, just with less blood - however long that lasted.

Even if Rhys wanted to stay...

He turned and left, a mix of shock and hurt in his chest. A bit of fear. Also anger, but he shoved that down. He shoved it _all_ down, knowing he just needed to get home. 

* * *

Rhys should've anticipated this. Just when things were looking a little _too_ perfect, they went to hell.

He returned home, slipping into his room and locking himself in. He found The Shirt and curled up on the bed with it,

He was the biggest idiot on Helios. Agreeing to this. Handsome Jack wasn't someone one just casually banged for cash. He'd messed up. Jack was pissed at him, at everyone apparently - but more importantly _him_. He should've left after Jack first said he was cancelling their appointment. But Rhys hadn't. Because he was a foolish idiot. Jack was right. He was stupid, unbelievably so.

Rhys wasn't even sure if Jack would want him again after this. Did Jack's temper at him have to do with before? Their previous sessions? With Rhys pushing him too much? Even in his current state, Rhys realized that seemed silly. As if someone like him could impact Jack to that degree. It was likely other events he couldn't know were at the heart of Jack's fury, and yet it sure as fuck didn't _feel_ like it. It felt like he'd ruined this...whatever it was.

Job, he reminded himself. _Job_.

 _As long as I'm not fired,_ he thought. But he didn't know that. Maybe he hadn't gotten fired today. But what about the next time Jack was too angry. What if Jack informed him when he next walked in to the office that he was done with Rhys's attitude and Rhys's mouth and Rhys's defiance and... Well, Rhys himself. This was the best job Rhys had ever had. The thought of losing it made him want to crawl into a hole and never leave it. It wasn't perfect, it could be exhausting, and there were days even Rhys felt less than up to being able to please Helios's king, but in the end, it was the best thing that'd happened in a long time. The money, he told himself. It was the best thing because of how much money he was bringing in now.

Yes. The money was all he wanted from this. Not the pleasure, not Jack pressed against him, murmuring in his ear, or the man's stupid jokes... Rhys felt an ache deep in his chest. He wanted... He wanted his soulmate, but even if they appeared right now, how would he explain anything to them, that his heart was...feeling things he didn't want it to for...

_Jack._

Yeah.

That.

He'd felt so stupidly complete with Jack pinning him against that desk, filling him up, praising him through both pain and pleasure. He hadn't wanted it to ever end...

Rhys was definitely in too deep. Maybe it would be better if...Jack did fire him. It would be painful, but at this point, maybe he could still recover.

He pressed his face into The Shirt.

It didn't matter either way. He was never going to meet his soulmate. And he was never going to be anything more than a prostitute in Jack's eyes.

Rhys struggled with bitter and anxious thoughts for the rest of the night.

* * *

Rhys stepped into the office, yawning, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Last night’s sleep had been more bothered than normal. The pressure from his supervisor was getting to him. That, and the way Jack had been acting lately - almost like they were back to square one - put a pit of anxiety in Rhys’s stomach that wouldn’t leave. Worse than square one. More like negative one. After the first day back from Jack's angry episode, Jack had mostly ignored him. For a couple days, Rhys had barely been allowed to blow Jack, and any thought of bringing their usual play to the table was out of the question. Jack barely spoke to him. It was like...all his worst fears were starting to come to life. It felt like walking on eggshells, like there was a timer on how much longer Jack would even want him around.

He'd thought he would at least be able to keep Jack entertained longer than a fucking month.

Jack sure had been glued to his computer a lot too, punishing the keyboard with pounding fingers and throwing angry curses at the monitor every now and again.

Rhys kept having dreams of walking into the Pleasure Palace, getting called up to the supervisor’s office, and Bryant gleefully firing him on the account of “Jack getting bored”.

 _Focus_.

He couldn’t afford to let his current distractions get in the way of his work with Jack. All Rhys could do was try his best - no, harder than his best now. He had to win back Jack’s interest before it all fell through. But how to do that… Rhys began putting himself together and thinking of an especially saucy opening line. He knew how much Jack liked being called handsome. He’d go for that sweet praise today-

His foot splashed in a puddle.

_A puddle?_

Rhys hesitated and looked down.

Blood.

“Oh my god!” He shrieked, jumping back. His first thought was lamenting his once-beautiful, now-soiled skag skin boot he'd chosen today. His second thought was _what the fuck- what the fuck?_ There wasn’t time for a third. An unexpected noise registered in his thoughts. Loud, labored gasps. Rhys’s eyes snapped up, following the thick trail of blood up towards Jack’s desk. As if the person it belonged to had been dragged. Jack loomed over a still-heaving form there on the floor, glaring, hands clasped around a gold and black Hyperion pistol.

Rhys felt his skin tingle, his own blood vacating his face. He did a few backsteps, forgetting how to breathe. 

Jack crouched next to the struggling form. “I’m _disappointed_ ,” he growled. “How is it, that no one in your department has any friggin sense in their friggin' useless noggins!?” He demanded. “How is it, that no one discovered the nest of traitors growing right under our friggin’ noses! What exactly is Maliwan offering you shits that makes you think you can get away with _this_!”

The dying man gave a wet cough in response.

“Oh I _see_ ,” Jack hissed. “I should just vent your _entire_ sector. Who knows how many of you traitors have weaseled your way in? Friggin’ Maliwan. I swear if it’s not Dahl or Torgue, it’s you shits causing me problems. Did you really think I wouldn’t find your little plans to steal my Eridian tech!? Did _you_?”

Another cough. “S-sir-”

“Shhh,” Jack responded in a soothing voice, “It’s alright. I’ll deal with ‘em aaall in time, kiddo. You just...gotta die _first_ , mm’kay?” Jack stood, looking at his gun in thought. “But...you aren’t really worth wasting another bullet on, are you, idiot?” Jack twirled the gun and holstered it. He kicked the guy over. He stomped on the man’s throat and pushed, working out a noise that Rhys really wanted to forget. "And you definitely don't deserve a swift death!"

Jack glanced up, right at Rhys, gaze bright and fiery. The eye-contact was like a shock of cold water. “Oh. Hey. Babe.” With each word, he twisted his boot into the guy harder. “I’ll get to ya in just...a sec… Make yourself...at home.”

“Jack…” Rhys said, struggling to find his composure and phrase his words correctly. His voice came out a bit high-pitched. “Uh...is this _really_ necessary…?” He winced and ran a trembling hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. God, was this going to be a regular sort of thing!? He didn’t want to see, hear, or be anywhere near these executions! His heart was about to burst out of his chest. Boy oh boy was he getting _too_ good at forgetting who he worked for exactly.

“What? Oh this?” Jack glanced at the dude - how was he still alive? Rhys thought - “I mean, _I know right_ ? I’m wishing I _had_ used the bullet, he’s just... takin’ _forever_ to die, ain’t he? I don’t got all day, asshole!”

Another choked sound.

“I meant-” Rhys started.

An explosion of noise interrupted him. A searing pain burned through his leg. Rhys screamed. The shock of weight on his aching limb sent him sprawling to the ground, whimpering. He reached down. His shaking hand came away red. His entire body registered the agony now. He groaned, tears building in his eyes.

A glance up and Rhys saw Jack unload a full clip into the guy.

“I’d mangle your friggin’ corpse if I had the time!” Jack snarled before rushing to Rhys’s side. Rhys flinched, expecting a rough grasp, but Jack’s hand landed without mark on his shoulder. “Rhys? Where’d he shoot ya?”

“Leg…” Rhys grunted, trying to fight the pain. Now wasn’t the time to be weak. He had to let Jack know he could handle it.

Jack glanced at his leg. “Alright. Alright- alright. We’ll get it taken care of, pumpkin, alright? Just stay with me, sweetcheeks.” Jack tapped his face firmly. “That’s it, no passing out or I dock your paycheck.” Jack breathed a sigh when Rhys gazed at him blurrily. Rhys saw him pull a knife out.

Rhys started panicking. “Oh god, don’t- don’t-” Was Jack going to _cut_ the bullet out? “No- no- there’s-” surgeons, _doctors, anesthesia. What_ was Jack doing?

“Shhh, it’s okay, tiger. That’s it.”

If Rhys had been in less pain and more coherent, he might’ve noticed the difference in Jack’s voice - how kind it sounded. But Rhys was in a lot of pain and was definitely _not_ coherent. He was about to start screaming in terror. Jack lowered the knife and...cut away the pant leg from his wound? Oh- _oh_. Yeah, that made more sense. Rhys felt nervous relief, but he was still uncontrollably shaky from the agony.

“That’s a relief,” Jack said, examining the wound. “The bullet seems to have just grazed ya. Still a fair amount of blood, but you’ll be fine. Just fine.” His voice was heavy with something. “Just hang tight for one minute, okay, sweetheart?”

Rhys nodded, swallowing. Jack stood up and hurried away. Rhys could’ve called Hyperion’s emergency line, but everyone knew how notoriously slow they were about responding. They were almost always backed up and understaffed. And would they even be allowed up here without Jack’s permission? Jack seemed to have some kind of plan to take care of him. Rhys was surprised he wasn’t being assisted to a hospital ward though. He should probably get stitches, at least.

Jack returned with a wad of gauze. He wrapped it around Rhys’s leg, prompting Rhys to hiss in response as it tightened against his wound.

“Come on, babe,” Jack said. “This should be nothin’ for you. I know you like it rough and hard. Here, don’t think about the pain. Just think about my handsome dick. That’ll make it better.”

“Your bedside manner...is _amazing_ , Jack,” Rhys groaned, pained in more ways than one. “Just fantastic. Also you don’t get to flirt when I’ve just been shot!”

“You know it’s helping.”

"And also I have barely gotten to even _see_ your _'handsome'"_ he made air quotes, "-dick in like, a week, which is not my fault-"

"That starved for it, huh?" Jack teased. What Rhys wasn’t expecting was for Jack to grab him and stand up, hoisting him with what seemed to be little effort. He pressed Rhys to his chest. "Pipe down, buttercup. We'll fix that later." His voice was quiet.

Rhys blinked. “Jack-?”

Jack raised his wrist and talked into his watch, not bothering to explain any of this to Rhys. He must’ve...had some sort of Echo on it. “Yeah, cancel all my appointments for today. I won’t be back in for awhile. Also, make sure my office gets cleaned up before _tomorrow_.” He hissed the last word. "I wanna be able to see my handsome reflection in the _floor_ , you hear me? Also, I need anything in the auditorium rescheduled because I’ve got some executions planned and we all know how the masses loooove a good execution. I'm sending the list down to security, because they've got some arrests to make. Make sure they don't screw it up or they'll explain to _me_ just how they did, got it?”

Rhys was somewhat in and out, still aware of being carried, but the fiery pain was extremely distracting. He stopped listening to Jack’s words and closed his eyes, drifting into the darkness behind his eyelids.

* * *

Rhys cracked open his tired eyes to an unfamiliar room. After a few seconds of trying to discern where the hell he was, he pushed himself up, breath leaving him in shock. The room was _breathtaking_. So unlike the rest of Helios. Hyper-realistic stars and space vistas adorned the walls. The gold and black furniture looked expensive and super inviting. So did the fluffy rug on the floor. There was a _fireplace_. It was so lavish... It even _smelled_ good, like lavender. He hadn't smelled something so sweet in awhile...

Rhys looked around. Right at Jack. He jumped. " _Jesus_! Are you watching me sleep like a weird old pervert?!" Jack sat next to the bed, brows furrowed.

"Glad you're just as grumpy as ever," Jack muttered, standing. 

Rhys shifted back against the pillow - god the bed was _so_ soft - feeling awkward. "Actually... Where am I?" He had his guesses. Jack let out a loud, long sigh, as if something were really ruining his day. Rhys stiffened, quickly remembering how he'd screwed up with Jack before. "Sorry, I-" 

“Y’know," Jack interrupted, "this isn’t how I _wanted_ to introduce ya to the penthouse. Wanted it to be more sexy than...ouch-y, maybe drag you in here naked with only a collar on or something, but that didn't happen, did it?”

“This is your _penthouse_?” Rhys exclaimed. That explained the over-the-top fanciness.

“Yup,” Jack said, placing his hands on his hips and jutting his chin proudly. “Pretty cool, right?”

"Yeah, that's- that's one way to describe it." Pretty cool? It was fucking _gorgeous_. Rhys was envying it from the bottom of his soul. "Wait a minute-" Rhys glanced at his still bandaged leg, wincing. “I...uh... Wasn't I...needing a doctor or something?"

“Nope. Good as new. You're welcome." Jack walked over, reaching towards Rhys’s leg.

Rhys flinched, expecting pain. “Wait-”

Jack prodded his leg, but the expected pain never happened. Rhys was confused.

"So how's it feeling?”

Rhys shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Good. Should be healed," Jack explained. "I gave you one of those healing shots- you know, the red things?" Jack encouraged his knee to bend, lifting his leg up. He unwound the bandage. The skin underneath was covered in dried blood, but the wound was closed. “Handy, right?”

"Aren't those...expensive?"

Jack raised a brow at him. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Yeah, right, uh...sorry if I bled on anything."

"No problemo. Everything here is completely replaceable, of course."

"Everything?"

"Everything. What, you think I get attached to little dumb objects. Gimme a break." Jack's face shifted to a bit less amused as he gazed at Rhys. He pointed at Rhys. "Well...maybe not _everything that's in this room at this moment_."

Rhys cleared his throat, a bit of a burn in his cheeks. He changed the subject before he made a fool of himself. "At the office... It was all so fast... I'm not sure _I_ even know what happened, so...” He trailed off.

Jack’s eyes darkened. “That asshole had a gun. Somehow got past the metal detectors and everything. Once I find out _how_...someone's gonna pay dearly.”

“What did he _do_ to uh, deserve the uh...stomping on the neck thing?”

“Oh him?” Jack asked with a venomous voice. Rhys regretted asking now, because Jack didn’t look fully satisfied with the guy's death. “He was just like all the other useless shithead traitors. Trying to send secrets back to _Maliwan_ !” Jack spat. “Friggin cockroaches. No, worse. At least cockroaches have a sick name and are useful in pulling pranks... Anyway, not only that, but the idiot had the nerve to friggin’ take a shot at you! _You_! What the hell? If you were dying, wouldn’t you take a shot at the person friggin’ _killin’_ you instead?”

“Your shield…” Rhys breathed.

Jack's lips tilted harder, if possible. “Yeah, guess the asshole figured that much. Guess he thought he could just take someone down with him. Someone I...” Jack stepped closer to the bed, looming over Rhys. Rhys swallowed, leaning back more. He was squishing the pillows quite a lot, he noted in the back of his mind. “I guess what didn’t compute with him, is that _nobody_ messes with what’s _mine_.” His voice was a deep growl. Rhys shivered, though not out of fear. The look in Jack's eyes made something deep in him squirm with pleasure. Jack still clearly wanted him.

Jack shook his head and lightened his tone. “But not to worry, buttercup. You know what this means, right?”

Rhys shook his head. "No, I really don't," he said in a dry tone.

“No more office work for you.”

Rhys’s heart plummeted. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. He sat up as abruptly as he'd leaned back. Hadn't Jack just said that Rhys was _his_? Why would he-? “Jack- please, that's unnecessary- I’m _fine_! I can do it-”

“Nope. You can’t. Because I said so. And what I say, goes.”

Rhys almost choked against the sudden lump in his throat. Maybe the nightmares had had some truth to them. He’d only worked for Jack for over a month now. He couldn’t be done. Not when he was finally on top of things. “Jack- I- You can’t do this to me, I- I’ll be more careful-”

“Do _what_?” Jack asked incredulously. “Help keep you safe? I thought you didn’t want to be around danger?”

“If- if you do this, they’re gonna fire me, I can’t-” Rhys shut his mouth. For all of two seconds, anyway. "Why do you act like _this_ if you don't want me around anymore!?"

“Fire you?” Jack squinted. “Why the hell would they do that?”

“I...if I fail to please Handsome Jack, it’s over. Bryant will have my head.” He swallowed, trying not to panic. “If I get fired… They’ll throw me off Helios- I can’t-”

“I dunno who the frig Bry-onion is but you’re still gonna please me just fine,” Jack replied, leaning on the bed, eyes bright and cheery. It was quite a whiplash from his dead-seriousness and anger from a moment ago. He looked...excited.

Rhys blinked. “I...am?”

“Yup.”

“I’m lost.”

“Instead of working at my office, you’re gonna work an _overnight_ shift here at my penthouse most nights, if you catch my drift.”

Rhys blinked again. And again. Once more as he processed what was being asked. “Oh... _oh_. See- see, I thought, you were firing me-”

“Why the hell would I _fire_ you? You’re one of the few deals so far this year that hasn’t blown up in my face. Besides, you’re a distraction in the office. Not a bad one, buuut... This way I’ll be more motivated to get my work done and get home because I’ll have something waiting. A sweet piece of ass that loves to sass. Heh I rhymed... Such a poet.."

Rhys snorted. “Seems about right.” Relieved. He was so relieved. 

“So whaddya say?”

“Of course,” Rhys said. “That sounds _great_ to me. Er, it may take me a bit of time to...get used to the hours, but I’ll be...um, _here_ , I guess?”

“Yeah you will. I’ll give you an ID so you don’t get fried like a skag steak trying to get in here. This is the most well-defended place on Helios. It's even 100% fireproof. I sometimes burn shit on the kitchen floor 'cause I can. Anyway, ain’t nobody gonna hurt your sweet ass again, baby.”

Rhys probably shouldn’t have been as turned on as he was by that sentence. Jack didn’t mean it in a special way. He just wanted to protect his investment. Rhys was definitely not going to complain about the added security, though. Unless...locking himself in all night almost every night of each week with an egomaniacal CEO he'd witnessed murdering two people counted as less secure, but… Rhys didn’t feel like he was in danger from Jack, even after Jack's blow up. Jack had been surprisingly attentive and careful with him overall.

“Alright, do I start tonight?” Rhys asked.

“God, you're eagerness is half your charm, buttercup... If you feel up to it, sure. If not, tomorrow’s fine. We’ll figure out your days off later.”

“I um...might need a nap first-”

“Yeah, those shots take a lot outta ya, don’t they?”

“-and then some dinner and then I should be good for tonight.”

“Sounds great. I gotta go take care of a couple things, but I'll be here this evening. Make yourself at home, baby." Jack acted as if he were about to leave, but he paused and sighed. He turned back to Rhys. "Oh uh...also, I know I've been a dick lately... So if you want to....really take it out on me later, feel free. If you know what I mean. There's uh...even an old whip lying around here somewhere...if you want to..." Jack cleared his throat and broke eye contact, leaving the room before Rhys could even respond.

Rhys gaped at the door.

Holy shit.

Rhys was smart enough to at least know what an apology from Handsome Jack sounded like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty tired and out of it today so if I missed any typos or mistakes just let me know and I'll fix them up.


	9. Just a Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack lets Rhys "take it out on him"...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this chapter was super hard to edit and took soooo long. Also been so freaking busy with classes restarting and working and having almost no time off at all. But I managed to get this done.  
> Also- I'm gonna work on replying to old comments now. Sorry it took so long.

When Rhys awoke, he explored the penthouse. What he found was surprisingly tidy - must’ve been cleaning bots’ work for how good it was. Rhys seriously doubted Jack was a man who liked to clean. The penthouse wasn’t as large as he expected. Well, for Helios, it was a decent-sized space, more than even a department head could hope for. But for a gazillionaire? It was underwhelming. The penthouse contained a living area with amazingly soft recliners and sofas and a TV set, a kitchen that was well stocked, a bathroom that was just as lavish as everything else - golden showerheads (six of them, _why_ ? But also, _nice_ ). Rhys also found a loft that was nothing but a soft, thick bed.

Rhys had access to all this now, he thought with a grin. He was the luckiest sex worker alive.

Rhys found himself in the kitchen, hesitating before the fridge. He was quite hungry. He didn’t think Jack would begrudge him helping himself, not with the Jack-styled offer of an apology. And Jack had indicated that Rhys could make himself at home. Rhys wasn’t even sure Jack would be back any time soon, or really notice anything missing.

Rhys helped himself to some prepackaged cooked garlic shrimp with noodles from the fridge. Delicious. 

Afterward, Rhys wandered back to the living area and fiddled with the TV controls. After about five minutes and a loud curse, he found that it was voice automated. Apparently not just Jack-voice-automated. Once started, he plopped down on the sofa and stretched out, more comfortable than he had been in some time. It took trial and error, but he got it to land on a less annoying channel.

He must have fallen asleep because he was awakened by the sound of the door opening and footsteps on the carpet. He sat up, spotting Jack. Jack stared at him for a moment…and smiled. “Rhysie cupcake, you’ve been making yourself right at home.” He gestured at the TV.

“Oh…yeah,” Rhys said, glancing at it. His eyes met Jack’s again. “Definitely have. I ate some food,” he admitted.

“Yeah, that’s good. Can’t have you too hungry, can we? I’ll just take it out of your check.”

“Hey,” Rhys sat up, about to defend himself.

Jack laughed. "I’m just joking, pumpkin. Jeeze.”

Rhys resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but not without a surge of warm emotions in his heart. He ignored them. “Of course.” He sat back.

Jack came over. “You’ve really gotta loosen up.” Jack’s posture slumped in a way that came from weariness, too many long hours. Jack collapsed onto the sofa next to Rhys like a sack of potatoes. “Mm, c’mere, kitten.” He reached out and brushed his hand over Rhys’s leg. Rhys had to laugh. He shifted closer in compliance, pressing their thighs together. Jack grabbed his hips and pulled him into both his lap and his lips. Kissing. Jack kissed hungrily, desperately. Rhys shifted until he was straddling Jack’s waist.

Rhys sat back on Jack’s legs and allowed his hands to rest on Jack’s shoulders. “You alright?”

“I’ve been better,” Jack grunted. “It…it’s not important, cupcake. All that matters right now is this.” Jack’s hands squeezed against his hips.

“Could…could you tell me what’s wrong? _Would_ you? It’d make me feel better about what happened…before at the office.” He hoped Jack understood what he meant.

Jack furrowed his brow for a few moments, seeming to search Rhys’s gaze. He shrugged. “I s’pose I could.” He let out a deep exhale. “There’s been a surge of Maliwan spies at Hyperion. Someone must be paying them a lot. It’s frustrating. I don’t know how they got in. We’ve had three hacker attempts in the last week. One of the perpetrators still hasn’t been found. I can’t find out _who it is, but when I do.._.” His grip tightened for a moment on Rhys’s waist. It slowly loosened. Jack head-bumped Rhys, sharing Rhys’s air. “That good enough, babycakes? I just wanna quit thinking about it for awhile, ya know?”

“Mmhm,” Rhys said, leaning into Jack’s neck and putting his lips there. It did make him feel a bit better knowing that it was not _him_ upsetting Jack.

Jack broke the moment with his usual crassness. “I’d rather think about this tight ass of yours.”

Rhys laughed. “You always have the best flirts, Jack,” he teased. “But yes. Let’s think about other things. Much more enjoyable things.”

Jack hummed, hand coming up Rhys’s back to tug him closer. “I’d say you’re breaking that personal talk rule again, kitten, but I guess that rule’s been busted all to hell at this point.”

Rhys chuckled, warm to his soul.

“It’s almost a pity you already ate,” Jack commented, hand moving in circles against Rhys’s back. “Coulda ordered a nice dinner, just for us.”

Dinner.

_For us._

Rhys couldn’t explain why he felt so…so _content_ , being against Jack like this. It was such a good feeling, one he wasn’t accustomed too. He didn’t remember ever being this relaxed in anybody’s arms in a long time. Strange when that someone was Handsome Jack, a man who shouldn’t have evoked such feelings. And one of Rhys’s clients, no less.

Rhys struggled to push away the familiar rising bitterness at that last thought. _Just a client..._

“So uh,” Jack started, voice rumbling against Rhys. “Given any more thought to the whole…taking it out on me thing?” His voice was tight and eager, like he was about to get a birthday present. 

“That excited for it?” 

“Y…I mean, no.” Jack faked a grimace.

“You wanting to roleplay now too? Or are you just lying?”

“Neither… Well, have you?”

“A bit yeah,” Rhys admitted. “Do you have cuffs here? I would assume so, but…”

“I’ve got a lot here, babe. Get up and let me show ya.”

Rhys did, following Jack back to the bedroom. He watched as Jack opened a door Rhys had assumed was a closet. Inside lay a large gold chest.

“Oh seriously?” He blurted. “That’s corny as hell.”

“Pshh, you’re one to judge, buttercup.” Jack opened the chest.

Rhys saw an assortment of toys. Whips, crops, vibrators, dildos, masturbators, plugs, lubes, ties, ropes, and…the list went on. More importantly, Rhys’s eyes picked out something that made him smile knowingly – fluffy, dark handcuffs. He had a desire to touch them. 

Jack noticed Rhys’s expression. “Heh. Never know what someone’s gonna need.”

“Fair enough,” Rhys said. He grabbed the cuffs, smiling at Jack. “Ehh?” He waved them, fighting his grin.

“Fine,” Jack said, planting his hands on his hips. “You can use those on me.”

Rhys eyed the crop and grabbed it.

“ _Somebody_ means business.”

“That’s right.” Rhys eyed it, feeling a shiver of excitement go through him. “You really want this, Jack? From me?” His breath was shortening and he knew that if it weren’t in his control, he’d be moments from popping a boner.

There was a beat. Jack shrugged. “'Course I do.”

Rhys breathed out, long and slow, at the power in that statement. 

“Then get on the bed.”

Rhys didn’t know why he expected Jack to hesitate, or dwadle, or even make excuses, try to reassert some control. It probably had to do with Jack's pride, ego, his dominating personality. But Jack did none of those things. He turned and climbed on the bed, almost quick enough Rhys suspected that he was _more_ than ready for this. Rhys followed and cuffed Jack to the head board. Jack stared up at him hungrily.

“You sure you don’t want a safeword?” Rhys asked. He collected the crop and returned with it. This was the first time Jack had let Rhys restrain him, and he was worried about Jack’s need for security. He’d thought for sure Hyperion's mistrusting, murderous CEO would be a little more flighty with this, given his history with paranoia.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Like I said. You’ll know if I don’t want ya to do something.” Eyes flashed. 

“I’m serious, Jack, when I say this. I’m going to get stressed over here not knowing what’s good with you for real? Give me a way to know.” He sighed. “Please. It’s just safety alright? I don't...don't...want this to go wrong. Especially since you're letting me have the lead right now...”

Jack eyed him for a few moments, seeming to consider. He grimaced. “Ugh, you and your _safety_ , cupcake, taking the fun outta this,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Just...stoplight system works for me, mm’kay? That good enough for you?”

Rhys tried not to judge Jack’s careless bedroom habits as harshly as he felt like doing in that moment. It was going to kill the mood - or rather overkill it. “Great, thank you,” Rhys said. “We need to discuss your lack of caution _later_ , though. Now. Back to the _fun_.”

“Finally.”

Rhys...tried not to think about it too hard- that Jack trusted him enough to do this. What that really implied, when there were so few…

It implied nothing. Maybe this was normal for him. To just bring people he wanted to fuck up here. Maybe there was some failsafe in case they turned on him.

For some reason, he didn’t quite believe that. One thing Rhys had learned about Jack, working for him all this time, was how little Jack trusted others. If someone stood too close, he shoved them. If someone tried to get nosy, he hit them. And if someone gave him any reason to be suspicious, he killed them.

Jack wouldn't let anyone on Helios tie him up.

Jack let Rhys do it.

Rhys went in, planting a kiss against Jack’s neck, pushing at his layers. Jack stiffened for a few moments, and Rhys stopped, questioning if it'd finally gotten to be too much for Jack's paranoia. Jack relaxed, slowly, muscles unknotting one by one. Rhys let the moment pass without the hassle of bringing it up. It wasn't a big deal. Just a momentary hesitation.

He undressed Jack as best he could with Jack's arms tied up. He should've thought that through better. He was too caught up in the moment to properly correct it, afraid any distractions would change Jack's calmness, make him uncertain. Rhys opened the coat, moved on to the vest, and then pressed up an old work shirt- damn it with the layers. He just wanted to get to skin. Skin he hadn’t really accessed before. The soft vulnerable belly and solid chest. No six pack that all those infomercials proclaimed - thank god, to be honest. Rhys had never been into muscle-heads. And Jack _did_ have an _office job_ technically.

He took a deep inhale of Jack’s unique scent. He was drunk on it. His memory of his soulmate's scent had faded as it had faded in The Shirt, but Rhys could swear it was the same as Jack's.

Probably the fault of all the oxytocin in his head right now. 

He had Jack exposed. He couldn’t stop exploring with his hands, feeling Jack’s chest rising and falling, tracing the skin that was dusted with hairs, softer than expected. Except for the places there were scars, little rough patches marking the skin with whites, pinks and reds against the tawny flesh. Rhys gazed at them, wondering about their stories. Something grand, like opening a vault? Or something ridiculous like tripping down some stairs? He almost laughed at the mental image.

Rhys kneaded the skin, couldn’t get enough. He looked up at the gaze that burned with a power of a million stars. But he didn’t feel intimidated, like he usually did. There was a familiarity here, a sense of calm. He smiled at Jack. "Your body's amazing."

Handsome Jack grinned a million dollar smile. "I know. I'm in it, after all. It's the best." Was that a bit of bluster? Rhys didn't think Jack was as comfortable as he let on, what with the way he'd stiffened at being undressed. He hadn't shown any previous reservations to Rhys's touch, not after that first day, anyway. The thought that Jack might have insecurities about his body was almost too much. A man this egotistical...being vulnerable... Rhys's heart skipped. Very. Hard.

It made sense in a way, with how hard Jack drived his own marketability, the mystery of his mask along with his "handsomeness". But the mask covered something Jack didn't want to show to the world. Oh, he'd show them _something_. That was the point. Show them that he was perfect enough to be plastered all over the company posters. So it made perfect sense Jack might not be fully comfortable in his own skin, with how high of an expectation he'd built for himself, how high he'd built the expectation for others to have of him. 

That explained the massive praise kink... 

It also made perfect sense for Rhys to want to soothe that discomfort. 

"It's perfect, every part of you."

Jack's eyes slid shut, and his breath left him in a rush, deflating in a very contented way. 

Rhys flushed, giddy. He'd been completely right. 

_I’m way too close to this._ Rhys thought, dropping his eyes and slowing his progress on exploring Jack’s torso. He was way too into this job. In a way like he’d never been before. Now he had... _feelings_ , damn it. But was it such a bad thing? He wasn’t expecting anything back… Couldn’t afford that. And he couldn’t bow out now. Too much was riding on his success. And Jack didn’t seem to be planning to get rid of him any time soon, giving Rhys unfettered access to his home. Rhys shuddered at the thought, felt like something really heavy was there, but he pushed it away. At least it couldn't get worse if he had no expectations. Right?

He tried not to think of it all as an impending train wreck. 

"You okay there, pumpkin?" Jack voiced, somewhat hesitant. The sound of uncertainty only added to Rhys's belief in his insecurities theory. 

By way of answer, Rhys leaned in and captured Jack’s lips, tasting him, savoring him, taking his time. He forgot about his own disappointment and lost himself in this wonderful moment. He wanted Jack to _feel_ what he felt right now, even if indirectly - wanted Jack to feel how deep this burned in him. How strong was his desire. He braced against Jack's shoulders, moving to straddle him. He played along Jack's smooth lips with his tongue, tracing the seam. He filled with euphoria, humming and pressing his tongue forward. Jack opened up willingly, and he deepened the kiss. Now that kissing had become somewhat normal for them, it was like Rhys couldn't get enough of it.

Rhys pulled away, albeit reluctantly. He still had a job to do. He moved down Jack’s chest, tonguing the exposed flesh until he traced over Jack’s nipple. He felt Jack’s breath hitch.

Jack’s voice reached his ears, once more strong as ever. “Honestly, cupcake, if this is your idea of _punishment_ , I’m not sure I find myself that worried of inviting your armageddon-like _wrath_ in the future."

Rhys leaned up. “Oh? Disappointed? Don’t worry, we’re just getting started. Also, I've got some rules for you to follow. From now on, no speaking unless spoken to.” He lifted the crop with feeling, eyebrows raised. "Also, you can't call me by anything other than just 'Rhys', got it? That means no pet names, no _cupcake_ , or _babe_ , or even _Rhysie_."

Jack looked like he was debating on disobeying, but it eventually became clear he wasn’t going to break the rule... _yet_. He nodded.

It seemed Jack at least somewhat understood the ropes of submission. “Good boy,” Rhys praised, even as he grew more curious about Jack's history of sexual experiences.

Jack visibly shivered. Rhys smirked, face stretching with glee.

Rhys pushed Jack’s pants down to his knees. He leaned down and licked the half-hard cock. He worked Jack up with light twists of his hand, sucking on the head and teasing the dip around it until Jack’s cock was hard and firm in his grasp. He stayed shallow, kept his touches light, and never put much of Jack's dick in his mouth. His only goal was to raise an interest. He looked up at Jack, noting the frustration there in his eyes.

Rhys sat up.

“Babe, _come on_ ,” Jack complained, shifting. Rhys grabbed his legs and held him still. “I need, _need_ those soft lips on me, just suck it already, would ya-?”

Rhys huffed a disappointed sigh. “What did I tell you about speaking out of turn? Or using petnames?”

“To not to,” Jack snapped. Looked like Rhys had finally hit the right buttons to bring out the defiance. “Like you got anything worth a damn to back that up, though, you little-”

As Jack spoke, Rhys shifted back, putting space between them. Rhys brought his crop down across Jack’s thigh, hard enough it made an audible crack. Jack winced and cursed. Rhys watched him, assessing if Jack was fine. He may have hit a little harder than he’d originally intended to. A red mark was already visible. Jack groaned and met his eyes, only a little less fiery. “That it? That was _nothin'_ , may as well've gotten hit with a paper towel. What, lost your nerve, cupcake? Kiddo? _Pumpkin_? Pumpkin muffin? Sweet candy cane princess? Little hot honey sugar beet-”

Rhys’s crop struck again, on the top part of Jack’s hip, where it met his belly.

"What's my name?"

Jack bit his lip. "R-Rhysie-" And laughed.

The next strike had Jack's back arching against the bed. "Oh friggin' _shit_ -"

_Smack._

The crop had hit Jack's lower belly, just above the groin, a clear warning. Rhys spoke again, calm and firm, "You don't need to say anything else but my name. What do you _call_ me?"

It took a few seconds for Jack to get a word out, eyes unfocused and muscles shaking. "... _R-...Rhys_."

"Good. Keep saying it until it gets engrained in that dense skull of yours." Rhys brushed Jack's cock with the crop, an incentive.

"Rhys, Rhys, Rhys," Jack babbled, over and over until Rhys felt satisfied.

"Finally." Rhys moved back up Jack’s body, gripping his shoulder and leaning in, forcing Jack’s eyes to meet his own. He’d already told himself he wasn’t going to touch Jack’s face tonight. Not when they were getting this deep in their play. 

"Color?" He asked.

It took Jack a second to comprehend the question. When he did, there was also some annoyance in his voice. " _Green_. No check ins. If I ain't green I'll tell ya."

"Fine. Have it your way."

Rhys clambered off the bed to grab the lube. While up, he took the opportunity to strip naked, ignoring Jack’s ogling all the while. Seriously, did Jack still think he was straight? A question for another day. Rhys returned quickly. He straddled Jack again and rubbed his cock against Jack’s stomach where the welts were forming, fighting back a groan at the softer skin against his dick. Jack’s breathing went off tempo in response.

Rhys got up to Jack’s ear, brushing it with his lips, whispering, “I’m gonna break your dick off, _cupcake_.” He used Jack's own petname against him.

He half-expected more defiance to be ignited by his words. But Jack merely moaned, his hips twitching beneath Rhys, chest heaving with sharp breaths. “ _Rhys-_ ”

Rhys tapped his shoulder. “Ah ah, no talking." Rhys sat back and dabbed some lube on his flesh hand. “Just watching. If that's a problem you have some nice gags over there I can use instead.” It dawned on him. He had full control for the first time. Warmth and adrenaline flooded his system like a shot of drugs. Oh yes, he'd been praying for this, for Jack to let him do this. It took everything in his power to not move too fast as he slipped his lubed finger in his own hole, spreading the stuff generously. 

Jack’s expression shifted with curiosity and even more anticipation, but he said nothing, a restless shift telling Rhys everything he needed to know. It was almost shocking how obedient Handsome Jack could be when he tried. Rhys spent a few minutes, letting himself moan to show Jack his pleasure. He sank back on his fingers before pulling up and repeating the action, building the anticipation. It seemed to work, because Jack groaned in tune to his voice, wetting his lips.

Rhys took a few moments, watching for any signs of impatience winning over Jack. A part of him wanted to really drag out the teasing. Another part was good and ready for the main event. 

Rhys pulled his fingers out, interest in the activity waning, his own impatience winning out first. He leaned back and rubbed his ass against Jack’s cock, feeling the still-hard, thick, leaking cock head against his flesh. “You’ve been kinda bad at this, but... I think you're learning. You want inside me, _Jack_?” Rhys purred, staring right into Jack’s glittering, begging eyes. He leaned in and licked Jack’s neck to sweeten the deal, tongue flat against the tendon in his throat. “Answer me with your words.”

" _Rhys_ ," Jack’s tone was ragged, voice thick. “ Friggin' _yes_.” Was he already this wrecked? Rhys smirked at how Jack was like this all for _him_. 

“Not good enough," he dared. “What do you want from me?” Rhys muttered against his ear, pinching a nipple.

Jack let out a short hiss of air. “I...I want ya...to...sit on my cock.”

“I think you want more than just _sitting_. We _just_ talked about this.”

“Y-yes, ride me, Rhys-”

“I never said _ride_... Let me give you a hint,” Rhys said, gripping the part of Jack’s lapel still around his shoulder and tugging until they were nose-to-nose. He raised his crop in warning. “What. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Do. To. Your. Dick.”

Jack looked confused. “I...I want you to…” He was trying to find the answer somewhere, it seemed, in his mind. Rhys had him too strung out to think properly, though. That was his bad, really.

Rhys was going to have to help. He did so in a singsong voice. “ _Break~_ ”

“Break…” Jack shivered under Rhys, eyes shutting. “ _Hooo-god_ … I...I want you to...break…” He took a deep breath. “....my dick off, Rhys.” There was some reluctance in his words.

A blaze of heat pooled inside of Rhys. He shut his eyes, his own breathing growing ragged. “What’s...the magic word?”

“ _Please_ … Rhys, Rhys...”

“More. Beg.” A rush of defiance entered Jack’s eyes, but it flitted away in a heartbeat. Rhys teasingly slid his dick along Jack’s stomach again. “This is your punishment, _remember?_ I'm not gonna be nice,” Rhys hummed. He dragged the crop's tip across Jack’s bare, heaving chest.

Jack broke all at once. “Please, Rhys- _please, just- come on, please- a-anything- I'll do anything-_ ”

“Good boy,” Rhys praised, letting go and lowering the crop. He dropped it on the bed.

With the help of his hand, he sat on Jack’s cock. Rhys’s mouth fell open and a groan spilled out as he filled himself with Jack. Jack moaned heavily beneath him, giving a shudder so violent it traveled through Rhys’s hips. Jack’s thighs jerked, his cock shifting inside of Rhys. Rhys shut his eyes, gasping for air. His thoughts scattered. His mind buzzing. His skin on _fire_.

“Yeah, that’s more like it,” Rhys whispered, holding still until he adjusted to the change. “You’re such a good cock.” His hands fell to Jack's heaving body. “And you’re _mine_. You’re my good cock, to stuff myself with, fuck myself on- Fuck-” He felt precum drip from his dick. " _Jack_ -"

Jack groaned so loud it cut Rhys off. 

He'd been waiting for this to happen for a long time. And the anticipation of getting to let loose on Handsome Jack was going to be the death of him. He had experienced quite a few sexual encounters in his line of work, some of them had even been very enjoyable. But this was the best damn thing he’d ever gotten to do. 

He was going to ride _the_ Handsome Jack.

What a thing to get paid for. He would never admit it, but he would’ve done this for free. “And you’re just so _handsome_ , too, aren’t you? King of Helios. What would people say if they realized you were basically my dildo right now?” Rhys opened his eyes. “Hey, look at me,” he said, tapping Jack’s chest.

Jack’s own eyes had slid closed, but they peeled open, wet and dark. Through what looked like great effort, he met Rhys’s gaze.

Now the tables were turned. Not that Jack was intimidated. Just destroyed.

His hair fell over his face, sweat dripping down his brow, mouth agape, gasping for air. His ears were darkened, and Rhys could only imagine the intense flush that must be under the mask. Rhys wished he could see it.

Rhys's hands traveled up until they landed on Jack's chest, feeling the pounding heartbeat under his hand.

Rhys rolled his hips, testing the feel. He watched Jack’s response for a second, saw the way Jack's face shifted in that life-like mask to reveal...utter desperation. Rhys moved more and more, picking up the pace.

In moments, he was fucking himself on Jack’s cock, chasing each slide of it against that sweet sweet spot inside. With every roll of his hips, he drove his own cock into Jack’s stomach, and then rocked back against the dick in his ass, hitting both spots with delicious, dizzying spirals of pleasure. Rhys couldn’t contain his moans for very long. They spilled out in every burst of gratification like gunshots going off in his brain. 

Rhys kept going, didn’t stop, even when his legs started burning. It felt so good, so _good_ -

Jack made a pathetic noise that probably could’ve been used as blackmail. His hips jerked up, cock slamming deep into Rhys. Rhys’s eyes rolled into his head, the sensation stealing his breath away. Jack forced Rhys to find his balance as he thrusted into him, over and over, relentless. Rhys had no time or thought left to regain control. His orgasm crashed upon him like a wave and it was all he could do not to fall over, crying out and spilling impressive amounts of cum across Jack’s stomach and chest.

Rhys’s hands were digging probably painfully into Jack's chest. He’d finished releasing but the repeated movements of Jack inside of him were keeping his cock from going limp. It might have been possible for Rhys to force it down if he’d had any presence of mind left. The idea of hitting that high again, though- It was all he wanted.

Jack’s voice pitched, high and strained. “Shit, Rhys, I’m gonna-” He writhed beneath Rhys. “I’m gonna cum, holy _nuts_!” 

“Then...do...it!” Jack’s pace slackened in exhaustion, Rhys returned back to riding him, desperate rocks of his hips that had him whimpering. “Cum...for me, Handsome,” Rhys groaned. “Nng- My handsome boy…”

Jack did. A wet heat seeped into Rhys’s body. Rhys moaned and ground his sensitive spot against the dick responsible. He was getting closer again...so _close_.

Jack’s dick went limp.

“Jack, I...come on- I need to cum again,” Rhys hissed in frustration, throwing himself forward to rut against Jack’s belly again - but it wasn’t enough. 

Jack's response was faint, as if he were on the verge of passing out. “Mm, sorry, baby boy-”

Rhys pulled off the soft cock, fumbled and released one of Jacks’ cuffed hands, guiding it to his entrance. “Just- Finish me with your hand. _Now_. And I won’t...punish you for being disobedient.”

Two of Jack’s fingers slid up inside him without hesitation, searching the angle Jack had used before. Rhys exhaled in satisfaction. Jack had large fingers, and the rougher texture was just what he wanted. The fingers pumped within him, in and out, a repeated motion that had Rhys's legs shaking. Rhys’s eyes landed on Jack’s wrecked face, before a wave of pleasure made them close. He leaned forward, cursing, felt himself edging closer to release. 

He tumbled over that edge.

"Jaack!" Rhys cried out, spilling once more. Jack obediently worked him through it, pushing each wave of satisfaction through Rhys's core. Rhys swore he was about to see stars, body shaking uncontrollably.

It faded almost too slowly.

He slumped onto the bed, aching, but so, so satisfied. 

“God...that was... _fuck_...” he murmured, rubbing his face against the silky sheets, the softness felt ten times softer in the aftermath of an orgasm. Two, actually. He rolled over, figuring Jack would need some sort of aftercare-

Jack was snoring.

Loudly.

“Ugh, damn you, you old man,” Rhys muttered. Deciding to leave Jack’s other arm bound and in that awkward position. He was feeling a bit vengeful in spite of himself. He curled up on the bed and closed his eyes, telling himself that he needed to stay near his bound top. It was just safety. Jack would need someone to release him in the morning... Rhys should probably try to find some cream for those welts, too. He'd do that in a minute, once he caught his breath.

* * *

Sometime that night, Jack awakened to feel one arm aching as if he’d ripped it out of his own shoulder and used it to beat a bandit to death in heroic badassery. His hips were equally pained, and his back...and well, _everything_ really… He wasn’t as young as he’d once been. And he hadn't done anything this strenuous in awhile.

But there was soft hair against his chin that tickled at the edges of his mask. It distracted him somewhat. His mask was also clammy and uncomfortable. He would need to remove it sometime after Rhys left in the morning. 

Rhys.

Jack looked right down on the mess of locks on his chest

“Rh-Rhys?” He croaked, voice raw, dry. He cleared his throat, swallowing some spit to soften it. “Rhysie? Babe?”

Rhys yawned and shifted closer to Jack, pressing his face against his chest. Jack hadn't realize until now that Rhys's locks were somewhat curly. “Mmm,” Rhys hummed in response, sleepy and not paying attention. Jack gazed down at what he could see of the soft face, and his heart stuttered a bit. Could he…? He couldn’t… Not for this little shit. Not for a dude. Having sex was one thing. 

Not the other thing.

“Rhys.”

“ _Whaaat?_ ”

“Could you undo the cuff. I gotta piss.”

Rhys sat up, hair falling over his eyes, glaring. He looked like an angry puppy. “You’re insufferable.”

“ _What_? You’re the one who left it tied up. It feels like hell now. So, thanks for that.”

Rhys began muttering and unlocked Jack’s arm, “- _gotta piss_. What are you, a savage? You could at least say pee.”

“Sure, whatever is nice enough for you, _princess_. I gotta go pee sparkles in the toilet.” 

“It’s certainly fancy enough in there you may as well try to convince me you do pee sparkles. I don't think that makes _me_ the princess in this scenario."

"Whatever." Jack rolled his eyes and went to the bathroom, rubbing said arm and shoulder.

Right. He was just feeling confused because Rhys was a bit cute. For a dude. That was it. Nothing more. Everyone felt at least a little inclination to grin when thinking of a cute kitten, right? It as the same science, human brains, and all that shit. 

He was too tired for this.

When Jack finished his business and returned, Rhys had his legs dangling off the bed, yawning as he ran his hands over his face. “Well, are you done with me for tonight?” He asked sleepily, mussing his hair. It was a mess. A _good_ mess.

“You should stay.”

Rhys froze. The weird change in the set of his shoulders made Jack’s eyes narrow. He turned to look at Jack, suspicion on his face. “ _Why_?”

“Don’t sound so weird about it- I…” Jack sat on the other side of the bed, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. “...might want a quickie before work in the morning, is all. You know what I mean, right? Seems silly to move if you just need to be back in here in a few hours,” he lied, uncertain how to say that he just wanted that cute butt in his bed until dawn.

“Well, surely you don’t want some lowly _whore_ sullying your nice bed until then,” Rhys said in complete opposition to Jack’s thoughts. His tone and words were weirdly hostile. Jack knew that much. He wondered if Rhys was still mad about before, when Jack had snapped at him in the office. But Jack _had_ just let Rhys tie him up and take it out on him, and until now, Rhys had been quite happy with that arrangement... “I’ll just sleep on the couch,” Rhys spoke in a decisive way before Jack got a chance to dispute it.

“If that's what you gotta do,” Jack said, stamping down his disappointment. “There’s some extra blankets over there. But if you’re worried about sullying stuff, I’m sure the cum’s done a fine job of that, whore or not. Nothing money can’t fix of course.” Jack was too tired to try and puzzle through Rhys’s mood. “‘Sides, you’ll just _sully_ the couch, not that I mind that cute ass on every surface in this house-” He was trying to joke, but somehow, Rhys just wasn't seeing the humor in it.

“I think it best, yeah," Rhys replied curtly. "Someone has to take the whole _minimal personal interactions thing_ seriously around here. Don’t worry. I won’t leak anywhere. I'll um, clean up a bit in the bathroom real quick.” Rhys stood, and Jack’s eyes were caught by that glowing soulmark that highlighted his ass so prominently again. 

Jack yawned as his exhaustion mounted, but his half-tired brain blurted, “so, do they approve of you doing this kinda work or....?”

Rhys looked back at him with a flabbergasted expression as he grabbed one of the spare blankets. “ _Who_ ? Approve of _what_?”

“Your soulmate. Of the whoring.”

Rhys looked away. “Isn’t that about as personal as it gets?”

“Oh uh, yeah. Right. But uh, I can’t help my curiosity, cupcake.” Jack lay back against the pillows, sleepy again.

There were several moments where Rhys fiddled with the blankets, messing them up quite a bit for no apparent reason. He seized one and smoothed it several times with his hands. He stilled. The words he uttered next were so quiet, Jack had to strain to hear them, especially since he was starting to doze off. “ _I don’t know_.”

“Don’t know?” Jack was wide awake again.

“I have no idea if they would approve. I don’t even know _who_ they are.”

Jack frowned. That didn’t make much sense. How could Rhys not know _who_ his soulmate was?

Jack didn’t know his either, but his soulmark was broken, so it didn’t count, really. As far as he could tell, he didn't have a soulmate. Probably.

“I woke up one day,” Rhys said, not needing a prompt to answer the silent question. “The mark was glowing and there was nobody else there. And I don’t remember the night before. All I have is the shirt I accidentally stole from him... It's not fair." He sighed.

_Him._

Jack frowned at a pang inside his chest, rubbing his mask, hard. Sounded like familiar bullshit to him. He could remember how his own had come alive for no real reason. Or rather, _didn’t_ remember. Ugh, his head. But unlike Rhys, he didn’t really care if he ever knew who his supposed ‘soulmate’ was supposed to be. “So it’s _broken_ eh?”

“What?”

“Broken soulmark. Just kinda sitting there uselessly, didn’t even alert ya. If it weren’t broken, you’d know, right?” Jack yawned again, shifting in the pillows. A part of him wanted to reach out and drag Rhys on top of him like a human blanket. “Well, Rhysie. If ya ask me. _You_ should choose who you get with, not the damned universe.” Come to think of it… Jack couldn’t seem to find his favorite button up anymore… But that was definitely a funny coincidence. The cleaning bot had probably got it. "No wait," he rambled on in his sleepy state, "if you really wanna know what I think....screw _getting with_ anyone. They're all out for themselves, in the end. Meaningless sex all the way, baby."

Rhys cracked a hard smile. His expression held no mirth, almost cold, almost angry. “Right. Easy for you to say. You don’t even have a mark.”

Jack opened his mouth to correct that.

And closed it again.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t even _dream_ of explaining what was under the mask to anyone, especially this whore he didn’t know that well. Instead, he just shook his head. “It's just a damned mark, is all I’m saying.”

“Yeah, well, and all I’m saying is that you _don’t understand_. Someone without a mark could never understand. Besides I _didn't_ ask you... Anyway, I’m going to get more sleep. Let me know when you need me for my _actual_ services. And yes, I am charging an extra fee for pillow talk.” With that, Rhys canted his hips at Jack tauntingly and sauntered away.

“Yeah, right, jaggoff!” Jack watched him go, a desperate, heavy feeling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two fucking idiots-  
> Rhys: Idk who my soulmate is, if only I could remember that night....  
> Jack: Hmm sounds about right, soulmarks are weird and dumb, who even knows. I don't remember this one night either...  
> Rhys: All I have is a shirt from this guy. I swear it smells like you.  
> Jack: Funny I just lost my favorite button up.  
> Also Jack, putting his hand on Rhys's ass: oh look, your soulmate has my hands! Weird right!?
> 
> Both Rhys and Jack: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm -insert confused math lady meme-


	10. Slander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys gets an unpleasant surprise....

Rhys barged into the office, fury propelling his steps. “What’s going on?” He snapped. “My card doesn’t work, and the secretary said you wished to speak to me. Wanna explain why?” He slapped his hand on his supervisor’s desk.

Bryant looked up. His lip twitched with a sneer, like his eyes had just landed on a dead skag. “I have received multiple complaints about you, Rhys,”

“What?! How?!”

“They say you’re rude, lofty - being a poor representative for the Pleasure Palace.”

This had to be a trick. Bryant must’ve set this up somehow. Rhys shook his head, glaring. “Why would they say that? You’re lying.”

“I can show you the reports if you don't believe me. Remember. I warned you, Rhys. Your actions have been under intense scrutiny since you fell into Jack’s employ, as I told you before. You’ve become bad for PR. At first it was good. Lots of media attention. But the relations with the people have gone sour.”

“How the hell is that possible,” Rhys asked. “Jack has had no complaints- and I mostly avoid the public.”

Bryant shrugged, but now he looked smug. “Don’t ask me, Rhys. You’ll have to ask _them_.” Rhys wanted to punch Bryant's face in with his cyber arm, but he restrained himself. He gripped the back of the visitor’s chair so hard, his human hand ached.

“Why does this matter so much? You’ve wanted Jack’s money for a long time now, and now you have it! You’d throw it away?” Rhys couldn’t believe this. He didn’t think Bryant’s grudge would run so deep as to self-sabotage his company's profits.

“Compared to the vast majority of Helios,” Bryant said, leaning back, “there is not much that can be done. Even Jack’s satisfaction can only go so far.”

Rhys tensed. “I dare you to say that to his face. The customer-”

“Always comes first, blah blah. That’s just the pretty speech they give, it doesn’t always have bearing in every case.”

“I could tell him.” Rhys almost bared his teeth.

“Wow, are you that stupid? You really want to bring Jack into this? That’s highly unprofessional. What would Jack even think of you whining to him like a pathetic little shit, huh?”

Rhys’s fists clenched harder still. He didn’t want to admit it, but Bryant was right. Jack would...probably laugh in his face if he knew what was happening. He could hear it now. _“The fame too much for you, kiddo?”_

Rhys forced himself to lose his tension. It was not easy _._ He drew a deep breath, fighting away his defiance. “What do you want me to do, then?” He dreaded the answer.

“You’re either going to have to make these complaints go away or I’m firing you. Obviously.” 

Rhys couldn’t keep the fire in his chest down. “I bring in more money than half your top whores-!”

“And so will the next escort Jack takes a fancy in, I’m sure, now that he’s had a taste of the medium level workers, I’m sure he’ll happily move on to the top level...and to our _ladies_ ,” Bryant smiled, expression dark and pleased. “You’re replaceable, Rhys. Don’t forget it. Would Jack really, _truly_ , disagree? You know him perhaps better than all of us now. Why don't you tell me?”

Rhys had a sinking feeling. He couldn’t bring himself to dispute it. He’d been working for Jack for a while now, but Jack was still a mystery. It was anyone’s guess, Jack’s overall feelings towards him, and if he guessed wrong…it would land him in the shitter. He was still just a whore, after all. He couldn’t really believe there was any reason for Jack to…to care about any of this.

Rhys swallowed, hard, a lump in his throat. He ignored it. He also ignored his heart pounding, the ache building in it.

Bryant spread his arms. “Sorry, buddy, it’s out of my hands.” He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded very happy. It only fed Rhys's fire. “You’ve got one week to change their minds, or else.” He made a _schwtt_ noise and slapped his hands together. “You’re done.”

Rhys gave himself a few heartbeats to think. “Give me the source,” he said. If he used his brain, he could...get this under control. “Who is rallying them against me?”

“I don’t know if there’s a main source, but the biggest complaints seem to be pouring out of the Securities Propaganda Department. Check there.”

“Thanks _so_ much,” Rhys said, sarcastic

“One week, Mr. Rhys.”

Rhys left Bryant’s office, fighting an array of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He needed to tame them, needed to keep calm. He had to figure out who was at the head of these complaints, and…he could pay them off, probably. He had the money. Or there were other options if that didn’t appeal to them. He’d find some way to make them stop. He had to. He just had to use think.

Rhys headed for the main entrance of the elaborate rooms of the Pleasure Palace building. A familiar figure up by the front desk caught his attention. He paused. The figure had spotted him too.

“Hey, Rhys,” the man waved, grinning an oily smile. “How’s it going? Fancy seeing you here.”

“Vasquez,” Rhys muttered, wishing he didn’t remember the jerk. He considered walking off, continuing his way to Securities Propaganda. But there was something in Vasquez’s expression that made him suspicious. “Why’re you here? Can’t get laid otherwise?” He jibed, voice loud and unpleasant in his own ears.

Vasquez only looked smug, which was somewhat worrying. He leaned on the front desk. “Strong words from a man who doesn’t have much of a future left.”

“What- How do you-?” Rhys put two and two together, and his temper flared once more. “It was _you_ , wasn’t it?” He snapped. He crossed the distance between them, only just restraining his fists from lashing out. “ _You_ are the source of the complaints?”

Vasquez smiled more broadly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rhys’s fists clenched, and his limbs shook with fury. “Don’t _lie_ to me.”

“Maybe you’re just an annoying guy, Rhys. Have you considered that?”

“You know something though, don’t you?”

“It’s true I…have heard there are a certain number of persons...who feel you are an incompetent person to serve Jack’s direct needs.”

Rhys scoffed. “If that were true, Jack would’ve chosen someone else by now, I think. Or are you calling him an idiot? I don’t think he’d like that.”

“Hey, even the big man can get confused sometimes,” Vasquez said with a calm roll of his shoulders. “Happens to even the best of us. Not judging. It just happens in a place like Helios. He just hasn’t seen how much a snake you are yet. But he will, one day.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

"Everyone knows your only value is in your sex appeal, and you'll never be more than that to anyone that matters." Vasquez was positively the worst thing Rhys had laid eyes on today, and that included Bryant, somehow. "Handsome Jack certainly agrees, wouldn't you say? With all that money he must be giving you... Ah, but what do you care, all you care about is that money, you little whores- Bet you couldn't even get it up unless it's over a pile of cash- I mean, there's a reason your soulmate left you, right?"

"How the fuck do you know that?" Rhys lashed out, fist crashing against Vasquez's face. Something crunched. Vasquez screamed, hands flying up to the place of injury. Rhys felt immense satisfaction for a few moments as Vasquez doubled over and held his bleeding nose. But he also heard a gasp from the secretary. Shit.

Vasquez straightened up, blood pouring over his hand. “Oh you...you little shit!” He voice was muffled. "I’m gonna make sure you never…make another cent. I’ll get you airlocked for this!” He turned and yelled. “Someone get me a doctor!”

Rhys stared at his bloodied cyber hand, heart sinking. Damn it. 

It was all good as over now. 

All because he couldn’t contain his temper.

Rhys realized Vasquez had never answered his question.

How did Vasquez know who his soulmate was?

* * *

Rhys later found himself at a bar with his friends, moping over a glass of bourbon. He'd just wanted to feel sorry for himself for awhile. He'd lamented his situation to Yvette and Vaughn. Well, as much of it as he could. He really didn't have anything better to do before work. The work he probably didn't have much left of. Gods, tonight would be difficult. How was he going to face Jack?

“You should tell Jack,” Yvette said, cutting into his brooding thoughts. “He’s got the money _and or_ the murder rage to make any problem go away. Perfect solution.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes at her. “No. Are you crazy? He’d think I’m pathetic I can’t even sort out one little work thing. The only problems he cares about are his own anyway...”

"I doubt it. All the shit I've been hearing, I think he'd just burn the Pleasure Palace down. Besides, this is more than just a _little thing_." She nudged Vaughn with her elbow. “Right. Don’t you think so?”

“What-?" Vaughn looked at her, blinking. "Oh yeah, definitely. He definitely likes burning things. Jack is the burniest.”

"See?"

Rhys exhaled, stirring his drink. "You don't understand, Jack is- He's not going to go out of his way for _me_." Rhys sipped his drink, a bitter sigh leaving him. “I’m _finished_ ,” he lamented. “This is how the best job I’ve ever taken ends. At the hands of an jealous, greasy asshole.”

“I still don’t think it’d hurt to tell Jack. He’s going to find out anyway. What do you have to lose?”

“Well, he might airlock me,” Rhys said, not that he really believed that, but still… He thumped his hand on the table, frustration rising. “I don’t know. I just don’t think I can face him with this. It’s fucking embarrassing, to put it lightly. It’d be better to just...have the Pleasure Palace tell him. Then someone else will have to deal with his disappointed response, which will probably involve strangulation. Hopefully it's Bryant who gets strangled.... I won't be that lucky, will I?” He sighed.

“Man, they’re all assholes,” Vaughn muttered, looking lost in his own drink. “Every last one of them…”

“I…if I lose this job,” Rhys continued venting. “I lose my money. If I’m careful, I have enough to last me…a few months...maybe more - haven't done the budgeting yet. Or I could buy a ticket off Helios and wind up stranded somewhere. Either way I lose everything. Probably my life. Where would I even go? To get anywhere even remotely civilized, I'd- I'd need more money unless I want to be homeless.... Finding work is out of the question... I just don't know...”

Yvette gave a huge sigh. "You're an idiot, Rhys. I love you, but you're a huge dumbass. Like literally the biggest."

"Thanks so much," Rhys grumbled. He put his hand on his face, ignoring her. She just didn't understand. He wasn't special to Jack. Jack wouldn't care. Jack only cared about himself. She just didn't _get it_ \- "I guess...I should try to apologize to that asshole... Vasquez..." If Jack cared, he would've...shown it, somehow. Jack...Jack...

_Why couldn't it be different..._

Yvette rolled her eyes. Vaughn remained distant. Rhys didn't pay either of them much attention. He had too much else to worry about.

* * *

Rhys called Jack. When Jack didn't pick up, he left a voice message telling him he'd be a bit late tonight but not to worry. With that finished, he shut off his Echo comms and got on the elevator to Securities Propaganda.

Rhys walked into Vasquez's office, his gut churning with an underlying sense of guilt, but he was nothing if not resourceful, smart. He had ideas. And if they didn’t work, there were always back-up plans. He wasn’t walking in here with no cards up his sleeve.

“Rhys.” Vasquez eyed him with displeasure from behind his desk. There was, however, a light of interest glimmering in his eyes. There was also a bandage on his nose, and that gave Rhys a bit of satisfaction. “Well, well, I was wondering if you would show.”

Rhys dropped his hands on the desk, as he’d done with Bryant. He wasn’t going to go down quietly, timidly. “You won. You happy?” He asked. “You’ve successfully put my name on the airlock. Well-played and all that.” He leaned back, folding his arms. “But I have no interest in dying, because that’s exactly what will happen to me, and you know it well, don’t you? So I’m here to negotiate. What do you want from me? An apology? I can make it sincere.”

“You know what, Rhys, I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that punch,” Vasquez said, briefly touching his nose. “Took some real balls to stand up for yourself, even if it was a death sentence.”

Rhys felt impatient. “And?”

“Let’s just say...I have a little more respect for you. So I decided, that if you came to me and admitted the truth, if you manned up a little, I’d show you some mercy.”

Rhys resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Stop beating around the bush. What. Do. You. Want from me?”

“Aw, don’t be so upset, Rhys. You’ll soon realize this is for the betterment of all of us.”

“I seriously doubt it.”

Vasquez stood up, grinning. He made a motion, and Rhys’s eyes were drawn to a gun strapped to his thigh, a clear warning. Rhys wanted to back up, but he held his ground. “It’s really simple,” Vasquez said, “I’m gonna admit. Almost too simple for my tastes. I can’t say a lot of hard work went into this.... But that’s just how it is.” He walked around the desk, motioning for Rhys to sit in one of the visitor seats. Rhys did so, reluctantly. Vasquez sat on the desk. “I gotta hand it to you Rhys. You did quite well getting the old man upstairs wrapped around your finger, but let’s face it... Jack won’t keep you around for long.”

Rhys _did_ roll his eyes that time. “Why don’t you people let Jack be. He’s not a baby. He makes his own decisions.”

“I know, I know. But you’re a real waste of time, regardless.” Vasquez took a deep breath. “So here’s the deal. How about I tell you who your soulmate is, and in return, you promise to leave Jack’s employ.”

Rhys’s mouth gaped. “What? I… You really know who it is?” He shook his head in disbelief. " _How_?”

“I have eyes and ears everywhere. _Everywhere_.” Vasquez grinned. “And I have all the evidence you would need to confirm it. To throw in a little bonus, I can get you a respectable job, too. To avoid all the dying biz.”

Rhys took a moment to process that. “What do you get out of this? This can’t all be about Jack.”

“Hmm…fair,” Vasquez said, seeming to consider something. “I suppose you have a right to know a bit more. There’s something bigger going on. Bigger than you. Can’t give ya the details but…it could lead to me a big promotion… The only way, though, is for you to be _out of the way._ I could just kill you instead, if you’d rather. Doesn’t make much difference to me... So what’ll it be, Rhys? I’m offering you a pretty nice deal. Hell, I’ll even put in a good word with Bryant if you’d rather keep whoring…”

"You've been sitting on this, haven't you? This doesn't seem like something you just pulled out of your ass."

"I suppose you got me there."

Rhys felt uncertainty rise in him. He…he wanted to know so fucking dearly. He’d been _needing_ to know. This could be his one chance to find out who it was. His soulmate. Did he really have to keep any promise made to Vasquez, after all? Lying was simple enough. It’d be worth it for this information, and depending on who it was, he could make adjustments later to his plans…

“Okay,” Rhys said. “But on one condition. If I find out you're lying, no deal.”

“Perfect,” Vasquez said. “Rhys, I’m happy to inform you that your soulmate is-“

There was an explosion of noise.

Rhys stared at a bullet hole in Vasquez's stomach. Vasquez yelled, collapsing to the floor. Rhys leapt up and spun around, eyes landing on...

"Jack...?"

Jack's eyes glinted with fury as he swept forward. "Why the everloving frig basket didn't you goddamned tell me, Rhys?" He said in a low, dangerous voice, shoving the gun back into it's holster.

"I...uh..." Rhys stuttered, uncertain what to even say. "I.." He felt like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the jar, for some reason.

Jack breezed past Rhys and stared down at Vasquez. "You know, idiot," he said to prone figure. "You might've gotten that promotion, if you hadn't screwed with what's mine." He squatted, grabbed Vasquez’s gun, and tossed it away. He pressed his own gun to Vasquez's forehead. "So now here's your options. One, you tell me who the frig this infiltrator is – I know you’re in on that Maliwan plot, don’t friggin’ lie - and I'll make your death quick for ya. Or two, you _don't_ tell me, and I let your sorry ass bleed out nice an slow? Which is it gonna be?"

"H-Handsome Jack....sir..." Vasquez coughed on blood. "I...please... I didn't... I was trying to expose them..."

"Not what I want to hear," Jack snarled, drawing his gun and aiming at Vasquez's gut. "Want another one in there with the first?"

Rhys couldn't say, in that moment, that he felt any remorse for Vasquez’s fate. In fact, he only felt weirdly fixated on Jack, more than ever, breath gone, a deep appreciation blooming inside of him, a gentler sort of fire in his chest. Still, his lips moved. “Wait.” He rushed over, also squatting and grabbing Jack’s arm. “Vasquez, tell me who they are- my soulmate-“

Vasquez just laughed. “No…deal… Rhys…” Vasquez spat blood on him.

Rhys grimaced in disgust. "Ew. What the hell?"

Jack hissed. "Counting down. Three, two, one-"

“Jack-“ Rhys started, “wait, he knows-“

Rhys's ears rang from the explosion of noise that was the second gunshot. Vasquez was dead, part of his head a bloody mess.

Rhys held back his nausea and blinked at Jack, whose frown was fading. "Got bored,” Jack said, “he has an associate who will know the answer. One who won’t be such a pain in the ass.” Jack stood up. Rhys also stood and grabbed his lapels, forcing their eyes to meet. Jack looked surprise.

“Goddamn it, he was about to tell me!” Rhys snapped. “You just couldn’t wait a few seconds!?”

“Tell you what-?“

Rhys closed his mouth, about to let go. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, your soulmate? That’s what this is about?” Jack grimaced. “He wasn’t about to tell ya, kitten, and even if he was, he woulda just lied to you.”

“I meant before you shot him! I was making a deal. If he lied, no deal. He could’ve known! Damn it!”

“Deal? Why the hell would you make a deal with that sleezebag?”

“I…I had to okay?” Rhys hissed. “I wasn’t going to follow through with it – god, it doesn’t matter.”

Jack stared at him for a few moments, a deep furrow in his masked brow line. He sighed, shoulders sagging. “It matters that much to you, huh?”

Rhys frowned and turned away, putting distance between him and Jack. How did he keep ending up in rooms with Jack and a dead body, anyway? He rubbed his forehead, trying to get rid of a headache growing behind his eyes. He felt too strung out now. What did it matter? He would never know his soulmate-

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, Jack’s chin on his shoulder. “Heya, cupcake, don’t look so gloom. If Wallethead can figure it out..."

“Who?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, turning his head to look at Jack.

“Dead guy over there. Name’s Wallethead. If he can figure it out, so can I.”

Rhys broke the hold to turn fully to Jack, _both_ eyebrows raising, eyes widening. For a moment, he ignored his curiosity at the weird nickname, because there was something far more important - if his ears were working correctly. “You…can? Why?”

“Why not,” Jack said, shrugging. “I’m tired of you scowling all the time. It’s unbecoming of ya. ‘Sides it’ll be way cooler finding out from _me_ , instead of that grease bag. Wouldn’t ya agree?”

Rhys felt that warmth returning to his heart, strong and vicious. He just wanted to kiss Jack until they passed out from a lack of air. “I’m…going to hold you to that.” He didn’t know why he said it, only that it felt right to say. He ignored the tiny part of him that didn’t really want to know because… Because of Jack. How Rhys felt for him. If he were honest, he...didn't think he wanted to feel like this for anyone else, as idiotic as that was.

“I know you will, pumpkin,” Jack rumbled. He hooked an arm around Rhys’s waist and guided them to the door. “Now, you ready to head into work? Or are ya just plannin' to take the whole night off?”

Rhys laughed. “Nah, I’m heading into work.”

“Great. That's what I was hoping to hear, baby. Wanna take a shower with me? Get the blood off and everything?”

“Yeah, sounds great. It is pretty gross.”

“And we can do… _things_ in the shower…”

“God, yes. Please.”

"Just one thing," Jack said in his ear, a sharper note entering his voice. "Promise me you'll tell me the next time shit like this happens, alright?"

Rhys looked at him, trying to read Jack's expression. He couldn't. "Why?"

"I..." Jack looked away, but after a few moments, looked back at him. "I won't let anyone hurt ya again. Didn't I tell ya that before?"

"Jack," Rhys murmured. He grabbed Jack's arm and dropped his head to Jack's shoulder, trying not to let _that_ tidal wave overwhelm him. He didn't think about how close he was to holding Jack's hand.

"What, sweetcheeks?"

"Thank you..."

"Yeah well...it's what heroes do. Plus, I can't be losing my favorite piece of ass, can I? Come on. I wanna shower and then fuck until I pass out, mm'kay?"

Rhys just laughed, still gripping on to Jack, full of too many thoughts and emotions to process, let alone express. "Okay." They walked for awhile longer before Rhys spoke again, "actually, if you wanted to...there's this giant asshole at the Pleasure Palace who wants to fire me... My boss, actually."

Jack's answering grin was wicked. "Just give me the name, cupcake."


	11. Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, long time no smut :P. I played a bunch of BL3 when it came out, (I won't spoil it, no worries) and then had a fight with the mental health but I...might be back now? Well, back with an update anyway. Getting closer to the end of this fic! Hope y'all enjoy the update! <3

Rhys shifted, Jack's weight settling on top of him, a low groan echoing in his throat. A blindfold blocked his vision and rope pulled at his wrists. His hands were kept dutifully tied above his head, preventing him from doing much other than rocking back against Jack's thrusts. He wanted Jack to know how much he loved this, feeling their bodies entwined together.

It'd been odd when Jack had asked Rhys for this - a request to let Jack blindfold and tie him up. Rhys usually wasn't thrilled to be at his client's mercy, but Jack hadn't asked as an assertion of dominance. Rather, the question came with a pleading look in Jack's mismatched eyes that seemed to say, _trust me._ As if Jack had _needed_ to know how much Rhys trusted him. As if Jack needed something from this.

And Rhys... That was the problem. He did trust Jack. Even if he knew he shouldn't.

But now it made sense. With Jack balls deep in him and draped over his back, he understood why Jack wanted this. His body was completely bare against Rhys's, not a single article of clothing left between them. He could feel the tickle of hairs, the softness of his belly. Jack didn't want Rhys to see him fully nude yet.

Sure they'd showered together, but Jack had always stayed behind Rhys, made Rhys look away when getting in or leaving.

Rhys grinded against Jack's dick, seeking the friction against his prostate, humming as Jack increased the pace of his thrusts. Emotions building, arousal thickening, Rhys's cock dripped precum. He focused on his breathing, giddiness washing over him. Jack's hands roved over his body, greedy, chin dropped against Rhys's back. Rhys arched against Jack, asking for more. Jack's breathing grew ragged, thrusts becoming sloppier.

Jack paused, catching his breath. "You close, babe?" Jack's fingers skated up his chest, stroking his nipple.

"Almost," Rhys groaned, shivering.

Jack's face dug into Rhys's shoulder, mouthing his flesh, and something felt off about it.

Rhys realized Jack didn't have his mask on. There were no harsh clips digging into his skin, and the texture was far different, not as elastic. Jack's face felt... _rough_ , for lack of better word, skin weirdly hard like cartilage, nose chiseled, chin heavy. However, Jack's lips against Rhys's flesh were incredibly soft, contrasting with the rest of feeling. Jack needed better skin care under that mask, Rhys thought in spite of himself.

Still, he burned with curiosity. Why did Jack hide so much of himself?

Rhys wanted to ask to see him, the _real_ him, the _whatever_ was under that mask and the usual layers of clothing, but he stayed silent. He knew how much it took Jack just to reach _this_ moment in time. He wasn't going to ruin it now. He needed Jack to feel safe. Maybe one day Jack would reveal himself to Rhys. Today was not that day, and that was okay. Or so Rhys told himself.

All thoughts fled when Jack moved again. He slammed hard against Rhys's prostate, working a cry from Rhys's lips. Simultaneously, Jack's roaming hand left his chest and moved to Rhys's cock, tightening around it and jerking, providing the stimuli Rhys needed.

Rhys came with a shuddering gasp, eyes fluttering closed. " _Jaack_ …"

" _Rhys_..." Jack replied, burying himself deeper inside of Rhys and cumming, placing kisses along Rhys's shoulder. "Frig," he hissed, gasping for air like a dying man, a shudder racking his entire body.

Rhys snorted and opened his eyes. Nothing. Blindfold. Right.

"What?" Jack asked after the shudders in his body passed. "Somethin' funny?"

"Not at all," Rhys replied, failing to stifle his amusement. "Just expected you to say something sexier than _'frig'_."

"Gotta have some manners in bed, baby. But not too many."

"Manners? When you're cumming inside me?" Rhys asked with a raised brow. "That'd be a first."

"Like I said- not too many. It's my charm, sweetcake."

"I'll say."

Jack pulled out, untying Rhys's wrists. "Leave the blindfold on, Rhys." Jack said. No pet names this time. He was really buttering Rhys up, wasn't he?

"Fine, but only because you used my actual name this time." Rhys sat up, yawning. "Could you guide me to the shower at least?"

"Yeah sure, whatever."

Rhys finally tugged the blindfold off in the bathroom after Jack had left, wincing as light struck his retinas. Was this going to be common? Having to fuck blind if he wanted to feel Jack's bare body against his? Or should he demand Jack get over it and show himself. Even frustrated, Rhys knew he shouldn't press this with Jack. Some things just....took time. And if Jack needed this for his comfort, well... Rhys was just a whore right? What right did he have to complain about it? And whore or not, it was rather selfish of him to demand Jack bare himself _just_ for Rhys, regardless.

Rhys clambered into the shower, shaking away the thoughts, letting the warm water jet over him, washing away the evidence of the fuck. He was only a little surprised to hear the slide of the bathroom door a few moments later.

Rhys could vaguely see Jack's form through the gold-tinted shower glass. A part of him perked up, hoping that Jack would have the mask off. Whether it was or not, he wasn't sure. "Just couldn't wait, could you?" Rhys called, grinning. "I didn't think you'd be ready to go again so soon."

"Pipe down and turn around," Jack spoke up over the sound of the water. "I'm coming in."

Rhys sighed and did so. Jack stepped into the shower behind him.

“What?" Jack murmured, "you thought you could just hang out naked in here and not expect me to come admire?” Jack grabbed the soap from Rhys, stealing the opportunity to squeeze his ass.

Rhys rolled his eyes. Predictable. “More like _ogle_.”

"Come on, babe. I just gave ya a great orgasm, what's with all this sudden moodiness?"

"I want to _see_ you. All of you. Not just half-naked on the bed in dim lighting. I wanna see and admire your whole body." Rhys admitted, frustration filling his voice. Okay, so apparently he couldn't stop himself from pressing this... He almost felt a little guilty, but he shoved that away. Jack didn't have to be a dick about this. He could at least tell Rhys _why_ -

"Do ya now?" Jack interrupted his thoughts

"Yeah, I do," Rhys said. After a moment of silence and running water, he added, "but...you don't have to, of course."

"Damn right I don't. You're not the boss, here, Rhysie. Even if you like to think you are. Really should train that outta ya...." Jack's arms wound around his body, his face burying itself into Rhys's hair. It was weird - the wet, damp, sticky... _hug,_ if it could be called that, with the water still gliding over them. Rhys didn't dispute it. Jack took a deep breath...and let it out. He was tense, and Rhys regretted bringing it up. "Why do you care so much? You're getting paid for this. Where does _my_ body factor in here?"

"Maybe because I don't want to have to wear the blindfold all the time. Or maybe I'm just tired of fighting with your layers for a fuck- Don't you get hot in those, anyway? Or maybe I'm just greedy and wanna see more of your sexy bod. Take your pick. But you're right, what I want doesn't really factor here, does it?" Rhys sounded bitter. He knew it. But he couldn't hide it. Not this time.

"What if I did show ya...and ya didn't like what you saw?" The question was asked in a light tone, but something about it was filled with...

Admittance.

Vulnerability.

_Insecurity_.

Rhys's heart stuttered. He wouldn't point it out. He wasn't even sure if Jack would allow it. Jack was more likely to clam up and deny. Then they would never get anywhere. He let it pass. "What if I know for a fact that there's nothing that would make me dislike what I saw? I've got a pretty good idea from what I've _already_ seen, and I _reaallly_ like it. I _love_ it. Okay?"

Jack swallowed loudly. Rhys felt a tiniest tremble in his hands that were so minute, nobody would have noticed if they weren't feeling them. "Hmmm...that a promise, Rhys?" Jack whispered, so quiet, Rhys might not have heard if it wasn't right in his ear. The words were heavy.

"I promise.... _handsome_. May sound corny, but I never did like six packs..."

Jack's arms dropped. He stepped back. There were several more moments of quiet, and Rhys wondered if they would run out of hot water before getting through this. _Could_ Jack run out-? Not important.

A few more heartbeats. "Okay."

"Okay?" Rhys had to be absolutely certain.

"Yeah. Turn around."

Rhys did, gaze landing on Jack's entire, bared form for the first time in the full lighting of the bathroom. His first thought was that he didn't see what the deal was. Jack's body was good. So very fucking good. Jack certainly had a lot to brag where a lot of men didn't. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, strong form, not to mention what he packed (Rhys already knew that much). The rest was pretty much what Rhys had gleaned from the night he'd tied Jack up. Some soft pudge in the midsection, weight where most wouldn't want it, a lack of toning, a variety of unfriendly-looking scars here and there. 

Rhys loved it.

Unfortunately, he did have to bite down disappointment because... It seemed Jack wasn't going to _fully_ show himself.

Rhys stepped forward and gripped Jack's...arms. Not his hands. Not yet. "Your mask-"

"Stays," Jack growled, eyes narrowing. "That's non-negotiable." Jack pulled away.

"Okay," Rhys hated that a part of him was somewhat hurt by that.

Jack turned and revealed his back where twisted white scars laced it's entirety. "Jesus," Rhys said. "What happened?"

"Oh, the scars? Buzz axe. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Damn."

Jack faced him again. "You done being disappointed yet, Rhys? You can turn back around, ya know."

Rhys blinked, realizing his mistake. He stepped forward, hands landing on Jack's chest. "No, sorry, that's not what I meant- It just looked painful when- whenever you got them. It's _okay_ , Jack. You're everything and more than I...than _anyone_ could want. You're so fucking hot... And yes, the scars really add to you... And, y'know, maybe I just wanted you to trust me too. Whoever fucking made you feel bad for not having a six pack can get acquainted with my metal fist-"

Jack laughed, growing more at ease. "Are you gonna punch a certain ex of mine, Rhys? how about the entire PR department? A couple random one night stands here and there?"

"Sure, give me their names-"

Jack kissed him, hot and heavy, stealing the breath from Rhys's lungs. He hiked Rhys's leg up against his hip. "God, lemme fuck ya?"

"So much for those manners- hah-" Jack's mouth was against his neck, sucking a hickey. Their wet, warm skin pressed together in all the right ways. "Jack- Oh fuck, yes- fuck me, please-"

It was fortunate Jack had a good shower mat, because they definitely needed it for the next half hour.

* * *

"What’s up, _handsome_?” Nisha’s voice said over the Echo.

Jack ignored the flirtatious tone, tossing a potato chip into his mouth. Ugh. One would think the CEO of Hyperion could get some decent junk food, but nooope. One would be wrong. Yet, he still ate them. “So y’know the whore?” he mused over a mouthful. "Course ya do. Oh god- that guy. Funny story time.”

“Jack-”

“He wanted ice cream. Not just one tub. But like, fifty flavors. It’s so goddamned annoying how much ice cream he eats. Like no whore has the right to look like that when they eat ice cream!”

“Jack!” 

“-I mean, he has a bit of a tummy, but it’s not a bad look at, at _all_. What would he do if I couldn’t buy friggin _fifty_ flavors- eat _vanilla_ like a normal guy?” Jack paused, a thought coming to him. “Do you think he’s ever tried frogurt? Fuuuuck that’d be _fifty_ more flavors I'd have to buy-”

“Shut the _fuck_ up already!”

“What?” Jack managed, taken aback by the harsh tone.

“I swear, that idiot twink is all you ever talk about anymore!” Nisha hissed. “It’s disgusting! I don't give a shit about all the ice cream or lovey-dovey crap ugh-! You’re obviously in love with him, I get it, would ya chill out? I don’t need to hear about the details. God, it’s so pathetic! You’re such a _baby_ now!”

Jack blinked. “Wha- I’m...I’m not in _love_ with him? What are you _on_? Did you smoke some bullymong shit down there on Pandora? He’s just a whore!”

“ _Obviously_. Ugggh, don’t talk to me unless you can actually talk about something I’d care about. Like killing baddies. Or fucking... Not _falling in love_.” She hung up.

Huh.

Jack stared at his Echo. Had he really talked that much about Rhys? He was venting or sharing a laugh, whatever the situation dictated... It...didn’t mean he was...in- in- in...

In _love_?

Pfft.

Hysterical.

Jack hadn’t been in love since people had called him John. He shuddered at the thought. Ew. John. Lame. Boring. He didn’t do love, not anymore, and even though Rhys was fun, it was just about sex. Nothing else.

Jack dragged himself and walked to the living room, looking for his whore. Rhys was sprawled on the couch in a provided, too-big, silky robe, an empty carton of fucking _ice cream_ on his stomach. His eyelids drooped, face illuminated in the television light. Jack strolled over. All right. Enough of this. He grabbed the empty carton, setting it aside, and nudged Rhys. 

“Hmm?” Rhys asked sleepily. _God_ …

Rhys looked crazy adorable right now. If Jack wasn't all used up, he probably could've fucked Rhys again right over the couch.

“You. In my bedroom. Now. I ain’t carrying you.”

“Oh…” It took Rhys a second to remember how to function, apparently. At the first possible moment, Rhys began sassing. As usual. “Oh, like how you weren't going to carry me when I got shot?"

Jack stared. "That's different. When you're shot you're shot, pumpkin. Come on. Let's go. I need to sleep." 

Rhys groaned and climbed to his feet, eyelids drooping. He leaned against Jack, huffing a sigh. Jack impatiently tugged Rhys to the bedroom. As he’d hoped, Rhys stayed fairly out of it, all too happy when Jack nudged him to the bed. Once Rhys had been pushed into it, Jack crawled over him and began kissing and nibbling on Rhys’s neck, until the younger man let out a soft, contented sigh. It wasn’t long before Rhys had fallen asleep fully, snores escaping his lips.

Jack grinned. His perfect plan worked so well. He curled up next to Rhys, wrapping an arm around him. It'd been awhile since he'd had a hug-pillow. And now he did. Content, he fell asleep just like that, never once letting go of Rhys through the night.

* * *

Rhys went home in the morning, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he stepped into the apartment. He wasn't all that surprised to find Vaughn there. Vaughn had been hanging around a lot lately. What did surprise Rhys was how weirdly pale Vaughn looked today, hair damp with sweat.

"Are you sick?" Rhys asked with concern.

Vaughn jumped. "I- what- nope. Definitely not."

"What's wrong with you? You look like you've been running a fever."

"That'd be the anxiety!" Vaughn mused his hair and blurted, "Vasquez is dead right!? I heard about it this morning, and-"

"Yeah, bro, he's dead."

"Oh thank god," Vaughn let out a relieved sigh.

"What's going on with you?" Rhys was baffled by his friend's behavior. Vaughn could be a little...odd at times, but this was whole new level of odd.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? In private."

"Uh, sure?" Rhys said. "Let's go to my room." Yvette had probably left for work already, but just in case.... They stepped into Rhys's room.

Vaughn fidgeted. "Can I close the door?"

Rhys's brow raised. "Okay."

Vaughn closed the door, clearing his throat. "God, I'm not good at...uh, big stuff but...now that Vasquez is dead..."

Rhys squinted. "What's so important about Vasquez?"

"Vasquez uh..." Vaughn adjusted his glasses. "You..aren't going to like this but... He came to me and threatened to kill us both if I...didn't do what he said?"

Rhys had a sinking feeling. "Oh... Vaughn. What did you _do_?"

"Nothing!" Vaughn exclaimed, hands thrown up defensively. He dropped them, shoulders slumping. "Or...well, not much of anything. Look, the jerk was going to kill us- me...definitely _me_. And probably my family and my family's dogs and cats- I just wanted to appease him, ya know? Keep him from killing _anyone_..."

Rhys shifted, fighting back the feeling of worry. Maybe it wasn't so bad. "What did he want?"

"I uh... He wanted...um...information."

Great. This was going exactly in the direction Rhys didn't want it to. He sighed. "What kind?"

"Um...any kind? Look I never told him anything important. Just played the incompetent idiot role, ya know? I told him stuff that was already known, like you working for Jack and... One time I described your outfit. One time about how we were drunk and you spent money on that Pandoracorn Piss drink at the bar. Just annoyed him into hanging up usually. Nothing big. Hell, I didn't even know enough to be helpful, I was sure- But well...I guess I was..."

"What does that mean?"

"I may have mentioned the soulmark once...and he was really interested... It seemed harmless, so I just told him what Yvette told me about how you came home drunk and singing and shit." Vaughn waved his hands, looked like he was about to sweat bullets.

Rhys stared uncomprehendingly. "What does this have to do with _anything_?"

"Well...turns out I may or may not have told him enough to give him an idea of how to find out who your soulmate was- is." Vaughn swallowed. "I uh, know how important that was to you... Thing is, I know who it is too... Vasquez told me, and- and it's killing me, bro."

Rhys grabbed Vaughn's shoulders, almost shaking him. "You _know_???"

"Yeah, but I-"

"Tell me, gods, please-"

"Whoa, easy, easy!" Vaughn said lifting his hands up as if to push Rhys back.

"Sorry, sorry," Rhys said, restraining himself, gritting his teeth and stepping back. "Vaughn, please just _tell_ me."

Vaughn sighed. "Okay, this is going to sound really....weird and ironic, but uh, it's the truth."

"Who, come on Vaughn, spit it out!"

"...It's Handsome Jack."

Rhys stared at Vaughn. "What?"

"Yeah, I know, crazy right-"

"Handsome Jack?" Rhys echoed. "Handsome. Jack. CEO. The dude I was hired by to give him sexual favors."

"Ew. But yeah."

Rhys spun around, felt like his ears were ringing.

Vaughn had to be lying. This was impossible. _Impossible_.

"No way- I can't- He can't be-" Rhys felt his hands shaking. But why would Vaughn lie? Why would he _lie_ -? He didn't have a reason to. But he had kept a _lot_ from Rhys; he'd just fessed up to playing along with Vasquez, for fuck's sake. "No, you're wrong! Jack doesn't even have a soulmark!" Rhys exclaimed. He pivoted back to Vaughn, angry. "I don't know what the hell you're playing at! Not to be TMI, buddy, but I have literally seen every inch of that man naked and- and-" A realization hit him.

"Not every inch," Vaughn uttered Rhys's thoughts, reddening, clearing his throat. "Wow that sounded better in my head- Just pretend I didn't sound like a perv just now, alright?"

"The mask..." Rhys muttered dully, ignoring him. That would explain why Jack had been so weird about taking it off. But- but- how could Rhys not have known he _slept_ with fucking Handsome Jack before all this mess? How does one just _forget_ that!? He paced angrily. "No, no, no, this can't be possible, it just can't-" It wasn't that Rhys didn't want Jack as his soulmate. Gods knew how much he wanted that. But he could only imagine Jack's reaction if he knew. If Jack found out... Or worse... What if Jack already knew? What if Jack had been lying this whole time, and-

Holy fucking shit.

Handsome Jack was his _soulmate._

Rhys wanted to scream and laugh and cry all at once.

Some things still didn't make sense, but a lot did. He just had to make sure.

Rhys went to his bed, lifting his pillow and grabbing The Shirt. Maybe he hadn't been imagining it had the same scent as Jack.

Rhys bounded past Vaughn, heading for the door. "I-I gotta go-"

"Does this mean you aren't mad about the Vasquez thing?" Vaughn called after.

Rhys barely heard, and by the time the question processed, he was already out of the apartment. He rolled his eyes. Yeah, that was low on his priorities list right now. He'd deal with that shit later.

Right now... Jack needed to answer some of his questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw feel like clarifying the ex Jack mentioned to Rhys when Rhys said he'd punch whoever made Jack feel insecure wasn't meant to be Nisha.
> 
> P.S. Please lemme know if I made any mistakes :P. Thank


	12. Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter gets angsty!
> 
> Sorry for the big delay in updating again. Life has been hecka busy. Almost to the end though! Probably 2-3 chapters left :D

“Jack!” Rhys called, striding into the office, clutching The Shirt to his chest. His breath rasped in and out with exertion. He'd half-run, half-powerwalked to Jack's office.

Rhys stopped short. Jack was sitting in his fancy golden throne behind the desk. Rhys could make out a glass of alcohol in his hand dangling over the edge of the chair. _Something_ seemed different, but Rhys couldn’t tell _what_ from the distance.

“Rhys?! What the hell are you doing here?!” Jack snapped and staggered to his feet, keeping his back to Rhys. His hair was a bigger mess than usual, going every which way. Something...heavy stooped his usually tall shoulders. He walked to the grand windows behind his desk, leaning against them. Rhys saw his reflection, but it was too far away to make out details.

Rhys slowly approached. "Jack?"

"Stop."

Rhys stopped.

"What do you want?" Jack's voice was ragged, as if he'd been punched in the stomach. " _Now's_ not a good time, pumpkin..." It was different than Jack's anger, Rhys thought. He sounded...frayed at the edges, like a ripped piece of cloth, like if a puff of wind blew through the room it'd knock him over. Rhys had seen Jack vulnerable...but this was different. 

"I think... I have something of yours?" Rhys said, trying to puzzle through what was happening. He looked around and...oh.

Jack's mask lay on the desk.

Despite the command to stop, Rhys walked up to the desk and set The Shirt down by the mask, curiosity growing. Still, Jack wouldn't face him.

"I...have to ask something," Rhys said. He drew a deep breath. Now or never. "Are we soulmates?"

Jack didn't move, didn't react.

"Jack...answer me. Please."

Jack turned around. His eyes focused on The Shirt, and Rhys noted the familiarity in them. "I...thought I'd lost that to the cleaning bots," Jack muttered.

Time froze.

“It’s true, then." Rhys's eyes widened at what he saw on Jack's face. He tried to breath, bringing his hands together and nervously tugging at his sleeves. “You have a _soulmark_ … And that scar, holy shit, what _happened to you_?”

The change came over Jack in an instant, his posture going rigid. “You shouldn’t see this,” he growled, turning away again, trying to hide what was too late to take back. The gesture was so vulnerable, it ached in Rhys’s chest. Rhys drew closer, navigating with cautious steps around the desk. Jack was still trying to avoid him, gaze pushed away from Rhys’s direction. He was tense, as if he might bolt 

"It's okay."

The glass in his hand shattered, spilling alcohol and glass.

Rhys froze, waiting.

“Jack...your hand,” Rhys breathed, seeing glass shards on it. He couldn’t tell if there was any in his skin.

Rhys reached out and touched Jack’s arm carefully, before sliding his hand down to Jack's wrist. He lifted the hand, lighting up his Echo Eye to examine the damage. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. He gripped one of the handkerchiefs Jack kept on hand, tugging it from Jack's pocket, and gently wiped the loose glass off. “Wait right there,” Rhys said. Jack gave no response. Rhys left quickly and returned even quicker with some tweezers from a nearby medical kit.

Jack was silent, uncharacteristically so. Rhys removed the few glass bits that were in the skin. All of them were quite shallow. None had even caused any bleeding. Guess those dumb callouses were good for something.

After he was done, Rhys looked up at Jack’s face, cautiously. Jack wasn’t quite as faced away now, but he _was_ avoiding Rhys’s gaze.

“It’s alright,” Rhys offered with a smile. 

Rhys’s hand landed on Jack’s face as lightly as possible, tugging it back around so Rhys could examine the marks better. Jack let out a shuddering sigh. Rhys felt the slightest of trembles in his tense body. He rubbed Jack’s jaw with his thumb, trying to be soothing. Jack tensed and knocked his hand away. A disapproving frown appeared, and then disappeared just as quickly.

"Sorry," Rhys murmured. He let his hand rest on Jack's chest instead.

The scar...was hard to look at. Not because it was ugly, but because it looked old and painful, as if it might still be causing Jack discomfort. The skin around it appeared leathery and hard like it hadn't healed right. The scar itself was a weird blue shade with a smooth texture, and it ran up the right side of Jack’s face, to his forehead, then down through his left eye. The eye was blank and white, blind.

Rhys’s heart clenched. He'd never realized Jack had blindness. Did...Jack's mask somehow correct that or...? Rhys had so many questions.

“Rhys,” Jack uttered, hoarse. “Could you...say something?”

"I..."

Rhys realized...the partially obliterated soulmark there was the remnants of a handprint.

_Swaying bodies, loud music, a swift impact against Rhys's ass. He felt a spear of alarm and recognition. Someone had just fucking smacked his ass, and they were going to pay for it. Fire in his chest, he spun around, hand connecting with a face with satisfying strength, open-palm for a good slap. The person's face jerked at the force of the hit. Rhys had five seconds to enjoy it. Then another few to stumble back with a strangled sound of terror…_

_He’d just...hit..._ Handsome Jack? _Fuck! How? How was this even-_

_Handsome Jack looked back at him, glaring with murder in his eyes. Rhys knew he should run. If he did, he might just be able to get away - long shot, maybe. Jack probably had a gun. Fuck, fuck- Rhys was frozen solid. Jack growled something Rhys couldn't hear and snagged Rhys's wrist, dragging him along through the crowd._

_Rhys was going to die, wasn't he?_

“It _was_ you,” Rhys whispered. He wasn't sure he'd fully believed Vaughn, but now... Memories were starting to trickle in. Like flashbacks.

“What?”

 _“Sir- I-” Rhys tried as he stumbled after Jack. “I’m really sorry- I-I didn’t mean to- I didn't_ know _-”_

 _"Shut up." Jack slammed Rhys against a wall and...kissed him? Hard. He smelled of alcohol and cologne, body warm and flushed, probably drunk. Rhys struggled to catch up with the situation. Smooth lips were coaxing him into a rhythm. Rhys was suddenly too heady to care about anything else except the way Jack's mouth felt on his. Just as he forgot everything, Jack pulled back. “Mmm, I_ like _you, babe. Real feisty... I wanna fuck your brains out-” Jack paused for a second and shook is head, as if fighting with something. "I...wait..."_

 _Rhys grew headier by the second. The room was foggy, except for Jack, who was sharper than reality. His mask seemed to glow. Rhys half wondered if he had been drugged._ _He hadn’t been drinking anything lately, so he didn’t know how it’d be possible. Th_ _e thought was light and breezy and swept away in a heartbeat. Jack’s hand traced down Rhys's abdomen, applying pressure in just the right ways. The moment of indecision was passed._

 _“_ _Please, sweetcheeks,” Jack breathed. “Lemme ruin you.”_

_Rhys moaned and nodded, feeling his face flushing deep and harsh. “Y-yeah, I’d...like that.”_

_Jack kissed him once more, just as hard but deeper this time. Rhys mentally traced every touch, every tug and push of hands and lips._

“Your soulmark...that night at...Aries. I remember now.”

_Rhys shivered, Jack’s hands moving under his shirt, touching everywhere-_

Jack said nothing, his one good eye glinting.

“Did you know? Did you remember that night?” Rhys whispered, heart pounding. _Please say no, please say no-_

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Friggin’ hell, Rhys. You’re _that_ hung up on it?! I thought you’d be more bothered by the ugly ass _scar-_ ”

“Did you _know_?!” Rhys’s sudden volume made Jack wince and step back as if burned.

“I…Christ, babe. Not at first- Not until...a week-ish ago? And only because I happened to remember I’d gone to _Aries_ that night the stupid mark started glowing. So I got curious and decided to see if I could find anything - just, ya know, 'cause I could. Found out I'd checked into one of the exec sex rooms that night.” _Curiosity_? That’s all it was to him?! Just a curiosity!? It’d never burned at Jack, not knowing-? “So I uh...I checked the recording equip-”

“You _recorded_ it!?”

“It’s _automatic_ , in case the execs wanna...rewatch the times they had, but...yeah, guess so.” Jack sighed. “Gotta say it’s a real pity I don’t remember that night cuz, uh, _wow-_ ”

“Shut your mouth!”

Jack’s mouth clamped shut - surprisingly - eyes widening in a way that seemed to register a mistake, if not fully, then partially.

“You _knew_ !” Rhys snapped, shaking. “You _knew_ , and you didn’t _tell me_ ! But you promised you would!!" His heart ached. He’d been stabbed in the chest. “That’s on top of watching- watching our _first fuck_ and deciding not to share that?! What the fuck?! Why?!”

There was a long pause, one that made Rhys want to scream.

Jack cleared his throat. “Honestly? I don’t believe in this soulmark shit, Rhys. I believe we fall in love with people who aren’t our soulmates just fine! I’ve done it! And it sucks. It's not worth it, everything just goes to shit. Not because of destiny or whatever, but because love is shit."

"Cut the bullshit," Rhys hissed. "Let's just...just talk about the _real_ reason this is a problem for you. It's because I'm a whore, right? A male whore at that? Couldn't let yourself feel for someone like me, could you!? That would be the worst!" Rhys felt like he’d been stabbed again. He couldn’t fucking breath. He pulled his own hair, back-stepping as if to retreat from Jack. “God you’re the actual _worst_ , aren’t you?”

Jack took a step after, expression confused. “Rhys-”

“This...was _important_ to me! You promised!" He repeated helplessly. Once it started, it couldn't be stopped. All of Rhys's pent up frustrations and anger came pouring out in an instant. "And you knew that after… Do- do you _know_ how many nights were sleepless knowing I’d never know who it was who’d lit up that mark? How much I _cried_ over...over someone who I thought I’d never meet? Someone I’d apparently fucked but couldn’t recall?” Fists balled against his temples. “But it was _you_ ! I always imagined my soulmate would be...I don’t know, amazing and perfect and- But- but it was _you all along_ ! The biggest asshole on the station!” He dropped his hands. “I _can’t_ believe this! What did I do to fucking deserve this?!”

“It’s just a stupid soulmark,” Jack snapped, throwing out his hands. “Why does it have to mean so much? Because someone _said so_ at some point!? We ain’t _lovers_ , idiot! Whore or not, because I don't give a shit about that-”

“Because I _care_ !” Rhys interrupted. “And that doesn’t even matter to you! You don’t care that I do! When I found my soulmate, I- I _wanted_ to _fall in love_ with them! I wanted to know what that’s like! But you- you’re just a slap in the face!” 

“Oh baby, you’ll learn that love ain’t worth a fuckin’ shit in the end,” Jack spat. “You want it now, but it just leaves you with nothing! Every goddamned time!”

If Rhys had been in a better headspace, he might have noted the pain behind the words. But Rhys wasn’t. It just cut deep with everything else, and he was...fucking through with it. All that effort to stay by Jack’s side…for this? God, he shouldn’t have done this, everyone told him so, even that stupid little voice in his head. Rhys stomped forward and jabbed a finger at Jack's marred face. He wanted to hit Jack, hard, let out the anger, make this man feel even an ounce of pain Rhys did. "Again you just deny- You know what, Jack? I don't know why I fucking _bother_. You don't care about anyone but yourself!" Rhys turned and stormed for the door.

Jack called, “Where the hell you goin’, cupcake?”

“Away from you! I quit!” Rhys shot over his shoulder and left.

Or tried to. Just as he reached the office door, it shut and locked tight, the red light glowing above it as an indicator, like the door had that night in Holloway’s office.

Rhys froze, anger and shock flooding him. He spun toward Jack, who was approaching him with a cold expression. Jack grabbed his gun off the desk, and Rhys’s stomach rolled. However, Jack jammed it into his leg holster, an afterthought. With his ruined face and glowing soulmark, he did look like the monster Rhys should’ve always taken him for, the one people whispered about behind closed doors, the murderer and maniac. “Let. Me. _Out_ !” Rhys snapped, voice trembling. He was terrified if he were honest with himself. Jack walked until he was a few feet from Rhys. He obviously wasn’t in a merciful mood. His expression was _vicious_. 

Jack closed the distance and grabbed Rhys's wrist, yanking him froward. “Quiet down, now…” Rhys clenched his jaw, sick. “Well...I guess that’s that, huh?” Jack’s face had gone almost blank, and in a way, that was more terrifying than the inconsolable rage that was Jack’s typical murdery mood. "You wanna betray me like everyone else I dare to trust with even an inch of my life, huh?"

“Really?” Rhys hissed, throat tightening. “I'm not the one who _lied_!"

Jack shook his head. "You have access to my penthouse. You've seen me without the mask. You've slept with me... You know things you shouldn't. You’re a liability. You got close to me. You _weakened_ me!” His face hardened.

"If that's true, why'd you let it happen? You could've stopped this at any time!" Anger surged through Rhys. He was ready to fight. “You know what, Jack? Fuck. You.” He spat. He yanked his arm, but the hold didn't break. “I almost got myself killed - with, with Vasquez and- because I bothered to fucking care about you- and this is how you want it to fucking end!?”

"You're the one who wants to walk out, all over a friggin' _soulmark_. So much for caring!"

Rhys was about to start crying, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t be that weak in front of Jack. Jack pressed closer, and Rhys's eyes widened when he saw Jack's other hand tracing the gun on his thigh in thought. Rhys's heart was hammering so hard, he thought it might explode. Rhys didn’t understand why Jack bothered getting so close. The gun would’ve been enough from the _office chair_.

"You gonna kill me, then?" Rhys breathed, swallowing. After everything, this was the way Jack wanted this to end?

Oh god, Jack wanted to strangle him, didn't he?

"Do I have a choice?" Jack asked, grinding his teeth. "What's to stop you from going to my enemies? Telling them everything you know. Bet you've got lots of blackmail in that head of yours that you've been collecting-"

“Fuck you!” Rhys yelled, tears pricking his eyes. “You think so lowly of me!? This is what I get for _trusting_ you! You told me this wouldn’t happen- you _promised!_ I’m _not the liar here, Jack!_ I should’ve listened when they told me you were too dangerous for me. But did I? God I’m an idiot!” Rhys struggled for a while longer to get his arm free, confused that he hadn’t yet been strangled or shot...or that Jack hadn’t said a word.

Rhys finally stilled in defeat, looking up at Jack. Jack’s expression was impossible to read. 

Several agonizing seconds passed.

He expected to feel the death grip on his throat at any moment now. Maybe the cold press of the gun muzzle against his temple.

Neither happened.

“I...don’t wanna kill ya, Rhys. I can’t do it...” Jack's voice sounded so empty.

Jack let go and walked away.

The office door dinged, unlocking. Rhys jumped, shooting it a glance before looking at Jack... Jack didn’t even look back at him.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

God everything hurt so _much_.

Rhys stood there uncertainly for a moment. He'd been intent on leaving, had been doing everything in his power to just a moment ago. Now that he could...he didn't want to. He...if only he could...fix whatever this was, somehow. He cast one more look at Jack. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, thought better of it, and twisted around. He didn’t want to change Jack’s mind on sparing him. He hurried out the door, everything still aching- his body, his heart, his soul, his pride.

At least he was alive.

* * *

Rhys sat on the floor of his room, in the dark, back against the bed, trying not to think. He'd been locked in for awhile, stifling his need to cry as best he could. He hated how the little voice in his head kept saying it'd told him so. He tried so hard to push it all away, even as thoughts of Jack and everything they'd done together wanted to swarm in as a cruel reminder of what he'd screwed up. _Don't think, don't think, don't think, Rhys._

He heard a knock on the door.

"Rhys?" Yvette's voice called through the metal. "Can I come in?"

"Hang on." Rhys sighed, rubbing his face. It was wet, but he ignored that, forcing his legs to work. He stood and flicked on the lights, wincing at their strength. He crossed the room and opened the door. "Uh, what's going on?" He asked in a rough voice. He winced at himself and tried to clear his throat.

Yvette looked him up and down, concern in her eyes. "I was worried. You seemed upset..."

"It's...nothing."

"If you need to talk, I'm here."

Rhys turned around, going back into the room. He dropped on his bed. Yvette followed, sitting beside him.

Rhys met her gaze slowly. Maybe...maybe it wouldn't be so bad to vent a little, right? He wouldn't have to say _everything_. "I found out who my soulmate was."

"And?" She prompted, brow raised. "Who was it?"

"They weren't...who I was expecting. I..." His throat tightened again. Tears threatened to spill over. He had to take several breaths before he spoke. Yvette rubbed his back soothingly. And still, his voice was pathetically pitched. "I just wanted to find them, Vette." He felt like child, whining. "B-but he didn't want to find me.... He only cares about himself... I..." He sobbed, burying his face in his hands.

Yvette pulled him into a hug. "Hey, hey...I'm sorry, Rhys. Do we need to egg someone's house?" She rubbed his back, carding a hand through his hair soothingly.

Rhys snorted in spite of himself, hiccupping. "No, no, that...that probably wouldn't be good. I...I think I just want to be alone for now... But maybe we can get some drinks tomorrow. Like...I wanna get really drunk... But I think I need to cry tonight for awhile first?" He'd been fighting the tears, but he knew he had to accept them.

"Sure. Anything you need, Rhys." Yvette said in a soft voice. Rhys stayed in the hug for awhile longer before forcing himself to draw back. Yvette continued. "Just let me know if you need anything. I'll get some warm broth for you."

Rhys managed a smile. "Thanks... Yvette. I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do. You deserve only people who care about you in your life. Don't forget that. And don't let that asshole destroy your heart. And just so we're clear, the egging thing is still on the table. That or I can go punch him for you."

Rhys snorted. "No I...I think he's been punched enough."

"Okay," Yvette said doubtfully. She drew back and left the room.

Rhys slumped onto the bed, letting the lights go dim. And he cried. Cried for most of the night, only falling asleep when he got too exhausted to cry any more.


	13. Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys's following weeks are rough...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo. Apologies it took so long to update. In late January I got really overwhelmed with school, life, and being out of a job, ect... My anxiety turned into severe panic disorder and I had horrible symptoms for weeks. I've been doing better but still not quite back to normal. Recently, I managed to get back into writing. 
> 
> I've missed this fic and all ya lovely readers! 2020 has been hell but stay safe y'all! I know we'll get through this.
> 
> I will reply to comments as soon as i'm able to get the mental power to do so

It wasn't long before Rhys realized he was more screwed than his grief-ridden thoughts had realized. Leaving Jack's employ meant that his job at the Pleasure Palace was over. He put off telling Bryant what had happened. He doubted Jack would inform his boss, given how Jack had barely known his situation at the Pleasure Palace in the first place. Self-centered prick.

It paid off in this instance.

Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before Bryant noticed the lack of pay from Jack. Rhys staved off the questions ("oh must be an error," or "Jack's just behind," or "why don't you ask Jack?").

A few weeks and few lies later, it caught up to him. 

"You little lying shit!" Bryant yelled over the Echo comms. "You thought you could get away with failing Jack _and_ us? I'd throw you out an airlock myself if I could. If I ever see your stupid face- Y-you're fired for real this time, you little-"

Rhys cut the call, almost chuckling at the mental image of pissed-off Bryant. The amusement died when he remembered he was screwed. "Well, there's that."

Vaughn's voice reached through the cloud in his mind. "Hey, there's a new position in accounting, have you applied?"

Rhys yawned. "Think that's a little above my...uh, resume."

"It can't hurt to try."

The three - Rhys, Vaughn, and Yvette - had been hanging out, distracting Rhys from his thoughts of...someone. His brain wanted to think about _him_ lately. It took everything in Rhys not to go down memory lane when alone. The hardest were the nights. The nights he would've normally spent at.... Nevermind. 

Rhys shook his head. "Guess I oughta do some applying around, huh?"

Yvette said, "at least you have some time. You could land something."

"You think anyone's gonna hire a former Pleasure Palace whore? Over all those fresh new interns and graduates they're so eager to maul over?"

Still, Rhys, half-hopeful, applied for several jobs over the following week.

He didn't land any of them. 

* * *

...

* * *

A part of Rhys was broken. Missing. Like the time he'd lost his arm. He'd been off balance, his world darker for its loss. He could feel it in his soul, that a piece had been broken away by rough, cruel hands. 

Why did _he_ do this? Why didn't _he_ want to be soulmates? _He_ might have hated the idea of soulmates, but was the prospect of them being linked so horrible?

Was it Rhys? Because he was a whore? A man? Too loud? Too mouthy? Too much? What did he do? Had this been destined to happen? Or a mistake? 

Soulmarks were theorized to be caused by Eridian technology. Their exact origins were unknown, but some say a siren - or maybe even an alien - had blessed a a small portion of the universe to have them. The odds of finding your soulmate were considerably slim, if one was of a more scientific mind. For those who had faith, they believed they'd find their soulmate when the greater forces of the universe desired them to. 

Rhys didn't care about any of that, though. Whether physical, mental, or more, it didn't change the fact it hurt so badly to be away from his soulmate. Sometimes it felt beyond physical, like something was pulling him. He often dreamt of returning to Jack. Then feeling the pain flood away. 

Did Jack feel the same? Or was his ability to feel the soulmark bond as broken as a dish set dropped on concrete? 

It didn't matter anymore. 

* * *

...

* * *

Rhys clenched his hands together, walking into the office. The lights were off, leaving the light of Pandora's moon to filter through the office window, purple and red. Rhys could see a figure in a chair behind a big silver desk.

Rhys approached, recognizing Jack.

Jack looked at him.

Rhy needed to go to him so badly. His soul ached with longing. He couldn't fight it.

"Jack."

He drew closer, moving without thinking.

"Jack. Please."

Jack stood, turning away. "Go away."

"Jack...I..."

Rhys got closer. Jack turned towards him at last. Rhys stopped. Jack's face was bloody, the bright red wound still fresh, skin charred, the soulmark black. Jack drew closer, only one eye still good, until he stood against Rhys. He wrapped his hands around Rhys's throat.

"Still wanting to be mine, baby? Well, little too late for that."

"What... Happened?" Rhys whispered.

The hands squeezed tighter.

"You did. You killed. Us."

Dripping. Onto his hands. Rhys could see his hands stained with blood. Banging reverberated through Rhys's skull along with a manic laughter.

* * *

Rhys peeled his eyes open, waking from unremembered dreams. There was a loud _bang bang bang_ sound. He groaned and sat up, a frown gracing his face, his head muddled from a broken sleep cycle. He rubbed his face, trying to shake the feeling away. The sound filled his ears again. Knocking? His midday depression nap was interrupted for this? It better be important.

A voice reached his ears, loud and angry. "OPEN UP! NOW!"

_What now?_

Rhys picked himself up and dragged to the door. He peered through the peep hole. He flinched in shock.

_Soldiers?_

Three of them stood outside the door, their helmets hiding their faces, postures severe. _Armored patrol? Why?_

“OPEN!”

Rhys hesitated long enough that one of them pulled out a blow torch, about to light it. Rhys made a choice. Scratch that, he had no choice. Whatever was meant to happen, would. He couldn't deny the Hyperion troops. He sighed and opened the door with a press of his hand. This may as well happen, right? It couldn’t be about the rent. He was still caught up, thanks to the money he’d earned from Jack. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Surely-

A blunt force knocked him off his feet. His head connected with the ground. He winced, the wind gone from his lungs. Rhys could hear heavy footsteps around him. Rough hands rolled him over onto his chest and cuffed his wrists behind his back. A heavy weight bore down on him.

“Rhys of Hyperion, you’re under arrest!”

Fantastic.

“What the hell?” Yvette's voice yelled. “What are you doing?” The click of heels. She was nearby. "You don't have-"

“None of your business,” One of the helmets sneered. “Now shut up, unless you wanna join him.”

“Rhys!”

Rhys, dazed, managed, “what for?" voice rasping with pain.

“Boss’s orders.”

Which boss? Head of the guard or…

The king himself?

Rhys was dragged outside, the image of Yvette's shocked and terrified face stuck in his mind. Yeah, this was happening. Things were just great, peachy, couldn't be better. He would ask who had ordered this and why, but he wanted to avoid any further rough treatment. He just sighed, wincing from the pain of being manhandled. That was going to leave a few nasty bruises...assuming he was alive long enough _to_ bruise. Getting hauled off by the guard rarily ended with living happily ever after. He just hoped he wasn’t being escorted to an airlock. He knew there were a few people who’d happily arrange that.

Rhys _wasn't_ escorted to an airlock. Instead, he was escorted to the penitentiary. With each step, Rhys's anger rose. This wasn't fair. What did he do besides apply around for jobs? That wasn't illegal! They shoved him into a cell.

"What am I in for?" Rhys demanded, spinning around, his anger simmering over.

One of the soldiers punched him in the gut. He doubled over, wheezing and coughing. Well, that was more or less expected. The guards said nothing as they left. The cell closed.

Recovering, Rhys leaned against the wall and slid down it, landing on his ass. He stared at the forcefield door. He didn’t understand what was going on. A dark ominous feeling filled his heart, his throat dry and scratchy, breath short. He drew his knees up and tried to get comfortable with his hands behind him. He closed his eyes and thought about Jack. He didn’t really want to, but the thoughts clouded in like storms on a summer day, blotting out the sun. Had Jack had him arrested? Had he regretted letting Rhys go with his life? Or… ?

Maybe Jack had nothing to do with this. After all, Jack hadn't cared much about Rhys. Jack probably didn't even know this was happening. 

Rhys didn't know which possibility was worse.

Rhys picked himself up and paced to the forcefield door. He leaned against it, trying to peer down the hallway. He saw nothing. He returned to sitting, quiet. It hadn't been that long, but it wouldn't take long for him to go crazy with his fear and worries.

He brooded quietly for what felt like hours before the sounds of footsteps reached him. The footsteps drew closer, and Rhys picked himself up off the floor, attentive. Hopefully, he'd get some answers and a chance to defend himself, if it came to that. A figure appeared. A guard.

“Alright, helmets,” said a voice, gruff and short. Rhys froze, breath leaving him. He'd recognize that rough timbre anywhere. _Jack?_ “Lets get on with it.” So Jack had arranged this... 

_Why? Why, why, why whywhywhy-_

Jack was out of sight of the cell, but he was definitely in the hallway. Two guards came up to the cell. The forcefield went down, and they marched Rhys out. Rhys saw Jack. Jack didn't look at him. Rhys's gaze slid to the floor, something in him twisting with dread. This wasn’t right. Why was Jack here? Why was Rhys in cuffs?

“Let's go,” Jack said in a gruff, short tone. 

“Yes, sir.”

They moved down the hallway. Rhys kept shooting Jack brief looks, hoping to glean something from his body posture, the hard line of his shoulders. It was stiff, radiating anger. Jack didn’t make eye contact even once. He remained silent. All these signs told Rhys volumes of the depths of his rage. Rhys had gotten good at reading Jack; he easily recognized it. He didn’t know if he should say anything or not. In truth, he wanted to yell and scream, to demand to know what was happening, to hit someone. But the largest part of him was too prideful to initiate conversation, to react to whatever the hell this was.

They shuttled off to another sector, one Rhys hadn’t been in in awhile. They moved through the Hub of Heroism, drawing curious stares that made Rhys's face flush with shame. They didn't slow, however, marching straight to Jack’s office. Rhys’s dread only grew. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. 

Rhys still couldn’t speak. 

Jack still couldn't be bothered to look at him.

They rode up to the long hallway leading to Jack's office. The guards were told to wait outside.

Which left Rhys and Jack in the office.

Alone.

Rhys swallowed.

Jack turned around, at long last deigning to allow Rhys into his line of vision.

Eye contact. There was expected fury in Jack’s eyes. Why _was_ Jack so angry? Not that they'd left on great terms, but something told Rhys this wasn't related to the whole soulmate argument. There seemed to be a warning in his gaze too. 

Rhys adverted his eyes, hating how he was letting himself cave so easily to silent intimidation. He'd almost forgotten how difficult it could be, to be in this man's presence. He stared at the well-polished floor, trying not to think of how disasterously his last visit here had ended. Rhys let his eyes travel around the office. Everything was how he remembered it except for the addition of a small, pathetic metal chair. It sat randomly in the middle of the office.

Jack moved toward the chair, drawing Rhys's attention. Jack shoved it at Rhys. “Sit down.”

Rhys looked at the chair before his gaze panned to the door. He tried to think of some way to stall. He didn't want to just be bossed around like he was still Jack's whore.

Jack advanced on him. “Sit. _Down_.” He loomed close, threatening.

Rhys's legs were unsteady as he stepped over to the chair. Unsteady because of the pain of his treatment, and the reluctance in his heart. He sat. This was starting to feel like a dream, surreal. He felt as out of place as he had when he'd interviewed with Jack, except all of his and Jack's history made this more painful. Rhys didn’t look when he heard rustling. Not until Jack got closer. Rhys saw him holding a bunch of rope.

Rhys’s voice broke out of him. “What...what are you…?” He directed the question into the air, unable to meet Jack's gaze.

Jack stepped in close and Rhys flinched. Strong hands drew the rope around Rhys's chest and arms, tying it. Rhys hated how a part of him responded to the proximity between them, like a magnetic pull. Responded to the situation. It wasn't long ago that something like this might've been some sexy ro- Nope, he wasn't going to think like that. This was real, true danger, not kinky fun. Rhys began to get really nervous, heart thudding in his chest. He saw Jack nod to himself.

“Excuse me, could you tell me what the hell you’re doing?” Rhys hissed, managing to look at the clasp on Jack's damned mask. Knowing what was under it, burned even more. He could blame all of this on that stupid mark. 

“Hush, for a minute,” Jack replied, gruff again. 

Great, the first exchange they’ve had in weeks and it was going _fantastically_.

Rhys sighed. Loudly.

Jack moved to stand in front of him. "Rhys."

Rhys looked up.

Jack grimaced. "Sorry in advance, cupcake.”

“What?”

Jack struck him. Rhys yelped, jaw smarting, eyes watering. Shit. “What the hell!?” He snarled. He lunged against the restraints, forgetting for a moment he couldn't repay the favor. "First your damn soldiers and now this! I'm getting sick of this shit, Jack!" Jack frowned and went to his desk, saying nothing. 

This stung. He’d thought he was somehow free of Jack. That being in his apartment meant nothing could hurt him. That wasn’t even remotely true. All this time, Jack could’ve had him marched up here at any moment, for any reason. And it'd happened. Here he was, bound and helpless. He just never assumed Jack would do it, not after letting him leave last time.

His soulmate.

This was his soulmate.

Yet another thing that wasn't fair. Why couldn't it have been someone who wasn't a first-rate asshole. 

Rhys should have fled Helios.

Rhys struggled against the bonds. What the hell was going on? Had Jack finally lost his damned mind? Rhys kicked out, but he was going nowhere. Long seconds passed, and Rhys bit his tongue, angry he was being given the silent treatment. Was this revenge? It sure seemed like some half-hearted attempt at it.

After long minutes, he gave up, slumping back in defeat.

Jack returned, holding his Echo. He raised it up, and Rhys glared, wondering what was going on. It clicked.

Jack had taken a picture.

“Are you serious?” Rhys spat. “Is this your idea of torture or something? No? Well, if you wanted a date you coulda asked!” He jibed. Rhys couldn't stand this silence. He was going to go crazy. "But no, dates will apparently kill you - o-or something. What is actually wrong with you?" Rhys resumed his struggles, more out of a need to work off his anger than actually believing escape was possible, like a race horse champing on the bit.

Jack fiddled with the Echo for a moment. Seconds later, it rang. Jack answered. “Yeah, uggo," he said. "The traitor’s been arrested.”

_Traitor?_

“So if you could just get up here to the office, pronto, that’d be great. I've got other things to deal with today, and I wanna get on with it, Bryant.” Jack ended the call. He threw the device aside. It cracked on the ground. His fists clenched, scowl on his brow.

Bryant?

Rhys gaped at Jack. Disbelieving. What the fuck? Jack really thought he would…. After everything? After all that'd happen? He thought Rhys would do something to harm Hyperion? And how was Bryant involved? He obviously set Rhys up. Jack believed that fucker over him? Without even bothering to ask Rhys? Or investigate?

Rhys felt all hope leave him in a breath. He knew how Handsome Jack dealt with traitors. He definitely should have left. Why didn't he? Why didn't he run far and fast when he had a chance? 

Was Jack really going to kill him? In front of Bryant no less? Like rubbing salt in the wound? Was this humiliation? Well, it was fucking working. Nevermind, this wasn't a poor attempt at torture. It was his worst nightmare come to life. Rhys's vision blurred. His face stung as the tears rolled down. Now he was going to die as pathetically as possible. Crying.

Rhys wished this was a dream, so he could wake up. He knew it wasn't. He wasn't that lucky.

Jack wasn’t looking at him now. Jack stared out the window into space.

Rhys exploded. _“You think I’m a traitor?”_ he roared. The words were shocking in the quiet, even to Rhys's own ears.

Jack started. He turned around, eyes narrowed. His exspression wavered for just a second. “Rhys, you need to listen-"

That ramped up his rage. “Listen to what? Your stupid silence? Yeah you're talking so much and I just can't hear it! If I'm a traitor then freaking kill me if you’re gonna! I-I’m done playing around. Spare me some freaking humiliation. Surely even you can have that small mercy!”

Jack drew closer. “Listen. To. Me.”

"Or are you too much of a coward just because I rode your dick a few times. Have to call in someone else to do it?! Wow, I can't even believe you-"

He reached Rhys and leaned in, putting his hands on the back of Rhys’s chair. Rhys's words died out, forced to meet the wild gaze. “Haven't been talkin' 'cause I know I can’t make you listen to me, Rhys-”

“Well, you're right about one thing!”

Jack bared his teeth. “Trust me, or don’t. I'm not friggin' arguing with you today.” He drew back with a hiss and stormed to his desk. He sat down in his chair, anger radiating off of him. 

Trust _him_? Like fucking hell! Wasn’t it Jack that didn’t trust Rhys? Who thought Rhys was a traitor? Rhys had never been more confused and upset in his life. No no no, this was more head-fuckery. It had to be. A specific psychological torture designed to drive Rhys to the edge just before Jack took his revenge. It was no secret this man was a sadist. Rhys sobbed in air. He sat there. And sat there. Waiting for something to happen. He couldn't stand this, he couldn't-

The office opened and Bryant walked in. There was a smug smirk on his gross face. Rhys glared. He wished he could dry the tears still on his cheeks, reclaim a last bit of dignity. Or at least flip him the bird.

Bryant didn't wait to gloat. “Think you could betray handsome Jack and get away with it, Rhys? Can't wait to see you dead-”

There was a familiar, explosive _bang_. A cry echoed through the room.

Bryant fell, a bullet wound in his leg. He clutched it, face red in suppressed agony. In the fall, his glasses had hit the floor, shattering.

Rhys gaped. This...wasn't what he'd expected at all. Did this mean Jack had...never believed the man? Rhys sagged with relief. Jack strolled over, some of his anger turned to vengeful joy. Jack took a knife from his pocket and cut the knots in the rope holding Rhys to the chair. He undid Rhys's cuffs. Rhys leaned forward, rubbing his wrists.

Jack proffered his gun to Rhys. Rhys stared in surprise. 

"Take it."

Rhys did, holding the gun with careful hands.

“That’s the traitor, Rhysie."

Rhys exhaled shakily. "What happened?"

"Bryant sent me a message a few days ago. Said you were a traitor. Had some really weak 'evidence'." Jack made air quotes. "I got suspicious, 'cause I knew if you were gonna sell me out, you woulda done it already and ran for the hills. So I dug around on him... Turns out, _he’s_ the Maliwan spy. The one I’ve been trying to catch for months. Right under my damned nose.”

Bryant tried to sit up. He groaned in pain. Rhys couldn't say he felt sorry for the man in the slightest. In fact, he felt a bit of his own vengeful joy. The sick bastard deserved this.

“All those times, trying to get a whore after me?” Jack said, directing the question at Bryant. “Yeah - I noticed, dumdum. Thought you were just a greedy fuck - and you are - but those weren't just whores. They were honeypots." He looked back at Rhys. "Hah. He was so pissed you got that job 'cause he knew you’d never be a honeypot for him.” Jack circled the man. “Isn’t that right, Bryo boy?" 

The rage made sense.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rhys asked, bewildered. “Or you know... _not_ hit me?”

Jack had the decency to look a bit guilty. Just a bit. And Rhys wouldn't have known if he wasn't so good at reading Jack. “Sorry again, Rhysie. Needed the photo of your capture to be believable or he’d never come...would you, Bryant?"

The man glared between them, silent.

Jack went on, "if you looked nice, Rhys, he woulda know something was up." His voice grew quieter. "...'Sides, wasn't sure you'd wanna help me after...everything."

“You could've asked?" 

"Would you have even answered your Echo? Or given me five minutes to talk?"

Rhys felt uncertain. He...he...didn't know for sure. He hadn't ever wanted to talk to Jack again. Rhys probably would've ignored any attempts to call him. Even if...a small part of him had hoped Jack would. That Jack would show some of the same pain and want for him that Rhys had for Jack. And yet, out of principal, Rhys wouldn't have entertained it. 

He couldn't blame Jack for not wanting to talk when they'd already had enough yelling to last a lifetime. "Okay, fine. Fair enough. So why give me the gun?”

“It’s your kill, Rhys."

Rhys's brows climbed. "Um...what?"

Jack's hands planted on his hips as he regarded the traitor. "This man has tormented ya quite a bit from what I’ve heard. He’s been a thorn in Hyperion’s side. There’s no clearer enemy. It may as well be your kill.”

And Rhys...gods help him, he was considering it, eyeing the sleek barrel of the Hyperion gun. Could he? He'd thought this was pure Jack territory, but having been around it, the idea of learning it... Excitement was growing in his veins. Jack was right. There was no clearer enemy. If he had to kill, who would be the better choice than Bryant?

“Come on, Rhys,” Bryant hissed, breaking into Rhys's thoughts. “You know Hyperion - Jack - isn’t long for this world. They’re playing with fire, and they’ll get burned. Juggling the Vaults and Vault Hunters like they do... We don’t like each other, Rhys, but we don’t have to… Maliwan would reward you handsomely regardless.”

Rhys’s eyes widened. He flew out of his seat. “After-after every fucking thing you've put me through, you th-think I would even fucking _entertain_ an offer from you?!” He demanded. He stomped forward and kicked Bryant as hard as he could in the chest. It was all he’d wanted to do since the day he’d first met the jerk. Rhys punched his stupid face. “You think I would be a fucking traitor?!" He shook the man by the lapels. "You think I’d ever turn on this company? You think you could make a fucking fool out of me?! After everything you’ve done?!” Rhys hit him again, with his cyber arm this time. And again. And again. Blood coated his metal fist.

He'd needed to vent his emotions against this dickbag for years. Not to mention he needed to vent today's stresses, too. He felt better already.

Rhys realized the gun he held was jammed against the man's neck. He dropped Bryant. Rhys swallowed, nerves crawling up his throat. He looked at the gun...and then at Jack. He felt...silly. “Jack...I… I’ve never killed anyone before I-”

“First time, eh?” Jack approached, smirking. The first smile Rhys had seen on him in some time. "That was fun to watch, by the way. Really made my weekend, cupcake."

“I…” Rhys's hands shook.

Bryant coughed, catching his attention. He clutched his bleeding face. Somehow, he managed a sneer despite his bruising flesh, his broken nose. A tooth was chipped. “You really are a pathetic, ass-kissing bitch! Really happy to let Jack walk all over you, like a yellow-bellied coward! You're not just a whore. You're a slut. Can't believe Jack didn't wring your scrawny neck for how pathetic you are.”

Rhys breathed out, reservations flooding away. His voice grew cold. “Jack, I’ve never even shot a gun.”

Jack put a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. It grounded him further. "You got this. Safety off, Rhysie.”

Rhys could almost laugh. It was so fucking ridiculous. The first moment of civility between him and Jack and it was over the finer points of...fucking murder. Did Rhys really want to be a part of this? He'd never taken a life before. There'd be no going back.

Bryant was really shitty, though.

Jack took the gun and repositioned it in Rhys's hand. Jack's hands were warm against his, body taught and strong next to Rhys. Rhys inhaled his scent, and a worryingly large part of him just wanted to curl up against Jack. “Hold the gun," Jack murmured, "just like this. Point and pull the trigger. That easy. Luckily for you Hyperion guns autodetect your arm strength, so you won’t have to worry about stability. That easy.”

Rhys saw the safety on the back of the gun...and clicked it.

“You’ll never be anything, Rhys,” Bryant growled. “You really planning to kill for Jack? This man will turn on you in a heartbeat, and you know it!”

Rhys pointed.

Rhys whispered, "Jack wasn't the one planning to kill me today."

Bryant’s eyes widened. "Rhys, wait-"

Rhys squeezed the trigger.

 _That easy_.

It was.

Is this why Jack murdered so much? Because it was too easy? And solved issues? Rhys had expected he would want to vomit. He didn’t. One minute, Bryant was there. The next, he lay unmoving, a red bleeding hole through his head. Rhys saw the mess he'd made, but all he felt was... Nothing? It felt like nothing. He curled his lip as he thought about Bryant's last word, apparently about to beg.

Who was the weak coward now, Bryant?

“Good aim, cupcake,” Jack said, clapping his hands as if he'd seen a great show. “Wow, kinda turned me on a bit, not gonna lie. I figured it’d take a few shots. Though, to be fair, it was point blank.” 

“Don’t. Talk.” Rhys noticed he had blood all over him. He put the safety back up and dropped the gun on the ground. He turned to the office door, away from Jack. "I'm still pissed at you." He summoned his anger, reminding himself that this was Jack's fault. That if not for Jack, today wouldn't have gone the way it had. He hadn't woken up this afternoon planning to get the shit beat out of him and then murder someone. _Stupid jerkface soulmark-rejecting asshole-_

“Rhys.”

Rhys sighed loud enough for Jack to hear. “ _What_?” He didn't turn around.

“I just wanna talk.”

“I don’t want to," Rhys hissed, "I'm not forgiving you, just because I killed someone." But he didn't move. He was incapable of walking out, even though he knew he should. "You big- _asshole_ -"

Jack grabbed him, spun him around, and kissed him. Rhys couldn't think for a moment, couldn''t move. It took about two seconds for him to kiss back. Jack's teeth sank into his lip, followed by a tongue in his mouth. Rhys moaned in spite of himself. He pressed into Jack, gripping his shoulders as hard as he could, wanting it to bruise. Jack's hands were on his waist, tugging him closer. It was punishing, frustrations being worked out on both sides. Rhys had wanted this so fucking badly for so long. He'd wanted Jack. He'd missed Jack.

The deep and terrible ache he'd had in his chest for almost a month began to wane with each second spent pressed together. Rhys pressed closer, needing Jack like he needed oxygen. 

Jack yanked back, something like bitterness in his face. Rhys realized what was happening and stepped back too, heart pounding. _I need to leave while I can. I need to._

Jack's voice stopped him, “Rhys, c’mon, just listen to me. Just once. If you decide you never wanna talk again after that, then…” Jack cleared his throat. 

Rhys's pride reared it's head. “I don’t trust you.” _But I want to so badly. I'm such an idiot._

Jack ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Just give me...five minutes. _Please. What the hell is gonna hurt to listen for a bit?"_ Jack's voice was so strained and aching. Rhys wasn't just fantasizing it, either. 

Maybe Jack had missed him too.

Rhys folded his arms, sighing. God was he weak. Annoyed with himself, he muttered, “fine. Just five. Talk.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I...didn’t tell you about the soulmark, Rhys, because I didn’t want... _us_ to change. What we had. Guess it did, anyway, huh?”

“What are you saying?” Rhys was on guard, but…he needed to know.

“I...I was worried that if I told you… You would hate it, you wouldn’t want to be connected to _me_. It’s been a looong time since anyone wanted to be tied to me. And...I didn’t want our whole dynamic to change. It was good, what we had. And...I’ve never been a fan of soulmarks to begin with. I...didn’t want it to matter.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty clear before."

“Yeah...but these last few weeks... Now...” Jack deflated. Rhys was once again shocked by how vulnerable this man could be. “Now I just...just wish I _had_ told you. If...If I have to have a soulmate, I don’t want it to be anyone else.” Jack shook his head, something determined in his eyes. “You’re my whole world, Rhysie. I...I love you.”

Rhys felt like the whole galaxy had stopped spinning. Nothing existed anymore but him and Jack. He couldn't breathe.

Love?

Jack _loved him?_

Jack swallowed. “Heh, not how I pictured telling you...wanted it to be...more romantic, but… Well, I’m...gonna er, go on lunch.” Jack was hurrying for the door.

Rhys grabbed Jack's arm. Jack stared at him, wide-eyed.

* * *

Jack stared at Rhys, frozen.

Rhys gazed into his eyes, searching.

Jack had spent a lot of time thinking about Rhys the last few weeks. Rhys had gotten under Jack’s skin in ways others hadn’t. Jack craved him more than he’d ever craved anything in his life, in every way imaginable, and Rhys's absence had only made it worse.

He wanted to hold Rhys every night. Wanted to kiss him in fancy restaurants. Wanted him to hang off his arm at parties. He wanted to show all of Helios, and they could stick their shitty opinions up their asses. He wanted to give Rhys literally anything Rhys could ever want. He wanted to be able to share everything he hadn’t been able to in a very long time.

And he wanted Rhys to be happy.

Rhys spoke, “Jack...I’ve been something of a hypocrite because… The truth is. I’ve been keeping something from you, too, for awhile now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I love you, too.”

Jack blanked... Then chuckled, resisting the uge to kiss Rhys again, harder this time.

Rhys said, voice so soft, “I’ve known for awhile now. Long before our argument. I fell in love, which is something I'm not supposed to do, with this job, but it happened. And I didn’t stop it when I could’ve. I...didn’t want to. Jack…”

“I… You mean you...still wanna talk to me?” Jack tried, struggling with the rising hope again.

Rhys actually chuckled a little, too. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, idiot.”

Jack took a step forward, about to kiss him. “Babe-”

“Ah, ah,” Rhys said, lifting a hand to halt him. Jack raised a brow, Rhys's finger on his lips. “I’m still mad at you, in case that wasn’t clear but… I’m willing to let you make it up to me.” He lowered his hand.

Jack grinned, feeling giddy. It was such an odd feeling, one he hadn't felt in a very long time. “Oh...well I can _definitely_ work with that, rhysie baby. You have something in mind, sweetheart?”

“First, lay off the sweet talk for now.” Rhys seemed to be fighting one of his stupid, goofy, wonderful grins, though. “Second, there’s a restaurant in Sector A, called The Handsome Diner-"

Jack laughed, "oh man, great place."

Rhys continued, "I've always wanted to go there. Meet me there at seven tomorrow, and we’ll see where things go, huh?”

Jack kept his gaze, wanting to lose himself in it forever. “Anything for you, tiger.”

“Great, wear something nice, please.” Rhys’s voice sounded a bit uncertain now. “Great. So...uh… See you then.” Rhys started to turn.

Jack grabbed his hand. And held it. Rhys's cheeks reddened. Jack gave it a light squeeze. Rhys had never held his hand before, probably didn't think he was allowed to. Jack hoped this gave him more than enough permission. "Oh, one more thing, Rhysie, if you want your job back at the PP, I sent them a threatening letter earlier and should be more than happy to have ya back. Or if you want something more nerdy and less sexed up, just talk to my secretary about openings. Any of ‘em are yours. I’m sure you’ll do great."

Rhys blinked, before giving an exhilarated laugh. "Jack... I don't know what to say."

"No need to say anything, pumpkin."

Rhys squeezed his hand back and put a kiss on Jack's cheek. He whispered in Jack's ear, "see you tomorrow, handsome." And then he was hurrying away, steps light as a pleased kitten. Jack watched him go.

Jack felt something unfamiliar.

Nerves.

Handsome Jack was goin' on a friggin' date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna add another chapter as an epilogue of sorts, but the story is pretty much complete at this point. For now I will mark it as complete :3. Thanks for being patient with me and my dumb brain! 
> 
> Feel free to lemme know if you notice any mistakes!


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